


The Teacher Trap

by kittykatknits



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, CoWorkers to Friends to Lovers, Everyone ships them, F/M, First Dance, Fluff, Light Angst, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Smut, awkward jon, school setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-03-20 20:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13725114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykatknits/pseuds/kittykatknits
Summary: Black Dragon Academy is considered one of the finest schools in all the north and Sansa Stark is its newest teacher. It doesn't take long for everyone, including the school directors and even the students, to decide her and Jon Snow, the reserved math teacher, might just be perfect for each other. The only problem is figuring out how to get these two Clueless teachers to realize the same thing.----partially based upon this tumblr prompt: Jon and Sansa are teachers and all their students secretly, but not so secretly, ship them





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Quick note on Sansa. Some of what she does in the classroom is based upon a teacher I had years and years ago. I absolutely adored her. So some of Sansa's teaching methods and classroom are modeled off of one of my old teachers.
> 
> 2\. Rickon and his friends are twelve in this story also.

Sansa drove through the stone and iron gate of Black Dragon Academy before parking in the administration lot behind the school. She quickly grabbed a small box of personal items from the car’s trunk and set out along a small dirt pathway to the main building’s front entrance.

The private school was considered one of the best in the north and she would be its newest teacher. It reminded her of an old manor house or country estate in many ways. The building itself was red brick with a stone archway over the main door while carved stone gargoyles clung to its tower. The grounds were stunning, lawns of thick, green grass with a small grove of trees; plus a tennis court, running track, and large fields for sports and recreation

Sansa opened the main door and stepped inside. The entryway was empty, if she’d not spied a few other cars in the parking lot then she would’ve guessed she was the only person to be found. Sansa halted, suddenly realizing she didn’t know where her new classroom was located.

“Can I help you?”

She started at the masculine voice behind her, Sansa wasn’t alone after all. The mysterious man was older by three or four years, if her guess was right. His eyes were a deep gray, not quite black. They were serious eyes. His smile was more polite than friendly. “You’re not a student here,” she blurted out.

“No, not for several years.” His smile warmed somewhat, amused. “I’m one of the teachers.”

“Me too. Not a teacher, a student. I mean I work here too. I’m Stark.” Sansa inwardly cringed. She took a deep breath, silently begging the knots in her stomach to go away. Sansa held a Masters degree, graduated close to the top of her class, and had written more papers than she could think on. It also wasn’t her first year teaching either; it was her second. She could do better than that. She offered her hand before saying, “I’m Sansa Stark, the new teacher. It’s nice to meet you.”

He took her hand, giving it a brief shake. “I’m Jon. As it happens, our rooms will be right next to each other.” His smile softened, growing deeper, and laugh lines appeared around his eyes. Still, there was something to his look that made Sansa think he did not laugh as often as he needed too. “It’ll be locked though so you’ll need to get a key from the office. I’ll walk with you.”

Jon took the box from her arms, surprising her. “That’s not necessary.” She wanted it back but also didn’t want to demand.

“Yes, it is. My mother wouldn’t approve if I didn’t. Come on.” He led her down the hallway, towards the school’s main office. Sansa wondered what his mother had to do with anything or how she would know if Jon refused to play the role of gentleman. “Congratulations on surviving the interview. They can be pretty tough.”

That was true, Sansa had been convinced she’d faint dead away during it more than once. “Probably the most nervous I’ve been in my life. I was grateful when it was finally over.” Jon chuckled but said nothing. She didn’t know what else to say but felt compelled to continue the conversation, it would have been rude otherwise. “I understand she has a son who teaches here too. Is he friendly?” Ms. Snow had rather strongly hinted she intended to retire in a year or two and hoped he would take over.

“She does. As for friendly, I think so.”

“Good. I want to make a decent first impression.” At least a better one than she’d done with Jon.

“I’m sure you will.”

They arrived at the school office and further talking ended when a woman exited one of the nearby private offices.

“Elia, I’ve got someone for you.” Jon kissed the woman’s cheek. They were familiar with each other, but it was not a romantic kiss, closer to a son’s, although there was no hint of similarity between them she could see.

“Well introduce us, silly boy.” The woman was much older, petite, with black eyes and hair. The first traces of gray appeared in her neat bun which belied her unlined face. Sansa couldn’t say why but the woman’s manner that Sansa liked instantly. “Never mind, I’m perfectly capable. I’m Elia Martell and who might you be?”

She recognized the name, this was the school’s other director and Sansa’s second boss. The knots in her stomach pulled tighter. “I’m Sansa Stark. The new teacher.” She offered a closed-mouth smile, hoping it was professional. “The new language and literature teacher,” she added for good measure.

“Oh, good. You’re expected. We’ve got keys and a stack of papers for you to read over. Don’t bother though, it’s boring and uninformative,” she said, handing over a thick manila envelope and pair of keys. “Lyanna, the new teacher is here,” Elia called out behind her.

Another woman appeared, this one Sansa recognized. “Ms. Snow, it’s good to see you again.”

“Call me Lyanna, dear. I get enough of that with the children.“ She embraced Jon and Sansa felt the knots again. Somehow, they managed to creep up her chest. “My son can show you to your new classroom. The two of you will be neighbors.”

Her son. Sansa felt stupid, she should have noticed it before. The same dark shade of hair and the same long face. Jon was taller and sported a beard but the differences were minimal. He’d tricked her. She wondered if he’d silently laughed over her question too. “Jon Snow, yes. We already met.”

“I’m one of the math teachers here. Sorry, I forgot that part,” he said guiltily. She supposed that was his idea of an apology.

Sansa’s present colleague and likely her future employer. She would need to remember that second part. “Math, is it?” she asked lightly. “I guess we’re both language teachers then.”

His brows lifted with confusion. “Never thought of it that way.”

“Numbers speak, don’t they? Just as people do.”

Jon laughed heartily. “I suppose that’s true.” He picked up her box again before telling her, “I’ll show you to your classroom.” He smiled, the first genuine one she’d seen on him.

“Thank you.” She was determined to be polite even if he did show himself to be a bit of a jerk. Or a liar. Or poorly mannered. Sansa wasn’t sure which and it didn’t really matter.

******

Elia was going to like their newest hire very much. “She’s young.”

“She’ll be good, I promise you.” Lyanna collapsed into a nearby chair. “She made our son laugh. Did you see that?”

“She did.” Jon was technically her step son but it’d never made any difference to her; Elia loved him dearly. “Shall I pass you the smelling salts?” Elia sat in a nearby leather chair and pulled her legs up. Truthfully, she was surprised too.

“Sansa isn’t married. I wonder….”

“You are not going to call her mother and ask if she’s dating anyone, Lyanna.”

“I would not have been so obvious.” Elia disagreed. “Jon is lonely. Can you blame me for wanting to try?”

Age and experience had tempered her wife’s romanticism some, but it was still there even after all these years. “No, I can’t blame you,” she sighed. “We both want him happy. Still, the school  year has not yet started and Sansa Stark is new. Could we give her at least a few weeks before you start the matchmaking?”

“A week, maybe,” Lyanna said generously.

“Very giving of you, darling.” They sat close enough so she took Lyanna’s hand to pull into her lap. Elia understood the concern. They’d been running the school together for close to thirty years, almost from the time Jon was born. It was his turn soon, or so they hoped, and Jon needed help, whether he realized it or not. He was lonely but it was more than that too.

Elia decided she would be taking a great deal of interest in the newly hired Sansa Stark before resuming her work. The new year would begin in only a few days.

******

Jon did not like first days of school and this one was the worst of all. His students were still lost in their summer haze, any school discipline or learning habits completely gone. It was always the same routine, going over the rules and passing out the class syllabus to a loud chorus of groans and complaints.

Now, he sat at his desk, waiting for the bell to ring and start the last class of the day. He also got to enjoy listening to the third discussion over the newly hired Ms. Stark as well. It looked to Jon as if she’d made all of her students worship her in a single day.

“She called us her dollies.”

“I loved her.”

“She’s the nicest teacher here.” That last one rankled some. Still, it was Rickon Stark, the object of conversation’s younger brother so Jon told himself it wasn’t true.

Mercifully, the bell rang and his students went quiet. “For the very few who don’t know me, I’m Mr. Snow. Take a copy of the hand out and send the rest to the person behind you.” Jon started passing small stacks of paper to the first person in each row. He wondered how Sansa Stark’s day was going.

He managed to wait twenty minutes after school ended to go find out. Jon stood quietly in the open doorway, observing her. Sansa Stark had her back to him as she cleaned off one of the chalkboards. The hair he’d spied earlier in a braided updo of some sort was now loose, falling in waves down her back. The lemon yellow cardigan she’d worn to match her skirt was gone too, revealing a sleeveless white top. She was humming something, with her hips swaying slightly as she worked. Jon liked the picture Sansa presented for him. Probably more than he should, considering she would be his employee in another year or so.

He waited several seconds longer before announcing himself. She jumped, letting out a startled squeak before turning around. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he apologized. Jon did mean to watch her dance number, he’d own up to that.

“I’m not frightened.” Sansa stayed quiet after that, staring back at him from the other side of her desk. She wasn’t going to offer him any further greeting, he realized. After the way he’d embarrassed her a few days ago, it was to be expected. They’d left the main office, marching straight to her classroom where she’d delivered a clipped thank you and a half-hearted wish for a good afternoon. They had not spoken since.

“I wasn’t trying to be rude the other day.” Jon left her classroom door, deliberately leaving it open, before lessening the distance between them and coming to stand on the other side of her desk. “I thought you knew who I was and then I didn’t know how to correct it. Lyanna Snow is my mother. Elia is my step-mother.” Jon was not going to admit his nickname for her to a woman he just met.

“Well then, it’s nice to properly meet you, Jon Snow.” Her smile was tight though, wary.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Sansa Stark.” He struggled for something else to say, remembering his mother’s orders. Jon was to help the newest teacher feel welcome. “Your room is,” Whimsical, overly done, feminine, fanciful, “very inviting.”

Her eyes brightened. “Thank you so much! I wanted our classes to be a comfortable place, a place that invites conversation.”

Jon glanced around at what seemed to be sculptures made with books, the corner that reminded him of a library nook, the wall decorated like a country garden, the lace valances, and what he thought was a fairy land on the other wall. “Yeah, I really like the desk arrangement.”

“I worried about that at first but Elia thought it a brilliant idea. She ordered some carpet for me to replace the blankets. It’s our talking place.”

Jon didn’t know how to respond, she was obviously enthusiastic. His room had the desks arranged in four even rows, as it should be, not in a circle with picnic blankets in the middle. “Talking about what?” He could not begin to imagine.

“Whatever we decide to talk about.”

“Of course.”

“Would you like a piece of candy? They’re lemon drops.” She picked up a yellow candy bowl sitting on her desk. “I always offer some, just in case.”

Jon didn’t like lemon. “No thanks, not particularly hungry.” Her face fell. “Could I take one for later?”

Sansa handed over a dozen of the things. “A piece of candy always helps, don’t you think?”  

“Absolutely.” Help with what?

She set the bowl down. Jon followed her movements with his eyes, noticing the light pink nail polish for the first time. The color suited her. He turned his attention to her desk, hoping to stumble upon something else to talk about. “You have stationary with your name on it.”

“For letter writing.”

“Letters to who?”

“Parents or students. Anyone I need to send a letter too.”

“I’m pushing for a school online portal system to be installed this fall semester. You’ll be able to send messages directly to any parents quicker and easier.” The school’s technology was largely his responsibility.

“Oh.”

“Letters are good though. You can still send letters,” he said reassuringly. Jon couldn’t believe it, he’d managed to take an awkward conversation and somehow make it worse. “You’re allowed.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Jon rubbed his beard furiously. “Yeah, that’s good.” He couldn’t think up another subject for the two of them. So, apparently, he was going to stare at her like an idiot instead. He also needed to start counting the number of times they managed to use the word “good”.

“How was your first day?”

“The usual. Kids who don’t want to be here. How was yours?” Jon instantly regretted the question, he already knew the answer. His students had been talking about her the entire day.

“Wonderful, better than I expected,” Of course it was. “Thank you for coming by, Mr. Snow.”

He’d just been dismissed. At lease Sansa Stark had managed to do it politely. “Call me Jon, please. I’m a teacher here, the same as you.”

“I understand that will be changing soon.”

“Nothing has changed yet.” He wasn’t sure what difference it made though, she didn’t seem to particularly like him. Jon sighed, deciding to be honest. He was decent at that, if nothing else. “I have a talent for making bad first impressions. And maybe even second impressions. We are co-workers though and our rooms are next to each other. So, what I’m trying to say, horribly, is that if you need anything, I’m right next door. I hope you come to love it here as much as I do.”

A hint of a smile appeared until it grew into a wide grin. Finally, he’d said the correct thing. “That’s very sweet of you to offer. I hope for the same, co-worker Jon whose room is next door.” She offered her hand which he took, expecting a handshake. Instead, she held onto him. A tingle started to spread up his arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jon gulped. “Yeah, tomorrow.” He was looking forward to it.

******

Rickon sat on the hallway floor, bored, with his two best friends next to him. Sansa had offered the three of them a ride home after school but she seemed to be taking forever. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time, she was slightly more cool than their mother, but there was a Pokemon game waiting for him.

“How much longer do you think she’ll be?” asked Lyanna Mormont.

“Five or ten minutes,’” he guessed. It couldn’t take all that long, teaching was easy.

Shireen was quiet, already doing her math homework. Rickon couldn’t believe Mr. Snow gave them homework on the first day of school. No one liked Mr. Snow so he probably did it to torture them.

They shut up as Ms.Snow, one of the school directors walked past. She nodded absently before peeking her head into Sansa’s door and quietly stepping away. Rickon thought she was clapping her hands.

“What do you think that’s about?” asked Shireen.

“She’s spying on my sister.” That was rude of her. He got up, wanting a peek in his sister’s classroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Rickon gagged at what he saw. Sansa was actually offering one of her candies to Mr. Snow. He’d need to warn her away, no one in the world liked Mr. Snow. He returned to his friends, resuming his spot between the two of them.

“Well?” asked Lyanna.

“My sister was in there, offering candy to Mr. Snow.”

“Why would she do that?”

Rickon slumped down further on the floor. “I don’t know.”

Shireen closed her notebook and put it away. “I loved your sister. She should tutor Mr. Snow on how to be nice.”

He thought about his parents. “If she was married to him, then he’d have to do whatever she said. No way I’d ever let her though.”

“Maybe---”

Lyanna stopped as Mr. Snow left his sister’s classroom, whistling. He smiled at them as he walked past too. They didn’t even get told the rule about loitering in the halls or threatened with detention.

“Is he...whistling?”

“Maybe he likes candy. Maybe your sister should give tutoring lessons,” said Lyanna.”You think she’d go out with him?”

“I’d ship it.”

“You ship everything,” Rickon told Shireen. She even shipped Pokemons.

“Yeah, but listen. If he’s busy with your sister, he doesn’t have time to torture us.”

“You want me to ask my sister to do it with Mr. Snow?”  The idea was disgusting, he wanted to puke. Plus, his sister was really nice and that was asking an awful lot.

“She doesn’t need to do it with him,” corrected Lyanna. “Maybe just go out with him for a little while.”

“I guess I could ask her to go out with him. That wouldn’t be so bad.”

“It won’t work,” said Shireen. “We’d need to make them fall in love. Didn’t you see the movie Clueless? We gotta do that.”

“Yeah, we’d have to pull a Clueless.”

Rickon was clueless, he’d never heard of it. His sister would have someone fall in love with her though and he’d get out of homework. He remembered a few weeks ago, overhearing her cry in their mother’s arms. His mom had told Sansa she would eventually get better. He’d pretended not to know about any of it. Sansa deserved to have someone fall in love with her and he deserved to have no homework. “Okay, how do we do that?”


	2. Chapter 2

Rickon sat across from his two friends at the library table. Technically, it was still lunch time but they’d decided to meet in the library after eating. No one ever went into the library, not unless a teacher made them anyways. 

“We can’t do the phone texting idea,” he declared. 

“Why not?” asked Shireen. “I think your sister would like texts from a secret admirer. She’ll think it’s from the person who gave her the flowers. We get Mr. Snow to give her some, and poof, they’re in love.”

A couple days ago, they’d swiped a bunch of flowers, yellow daisies because his sister liked yellow, from the school’s flower garden. Lyanna had wrapped them up in some school paper and he’d written a note, telling Sansa they were from her secret admirer. “My sister thinks they came from a student.”

Before they gave her the flowers, Rickon had asked Sansa if anyone was in love with her. They needed to know in case someone else wanted to date his sister too. She’d told him that no one loved her but it didn’t matter because it meant she had more time for teaching. Sansa looked like her feelings were hurt when she said that though. 

“We are students.”

“No. See, my sister thinks her secret admirer is one of her students. I overheard her talking to my mom.” Sansa had reported the flowers to both the school directors and promised to immediately let them know of any further inappropriate behavior from another student. “She thinks one of her students has a crush on her now and she’s trying to guess who it is. I guess my handwriting doesn’t look as much like a grown-up as we thought.”

Lyanna stared at him, flummoxed. “But you disguised it.”

“I know.” Rickon hoped Sansa never found out they’d been the one to send her flowers. That would totally be the worst thing to happen to him in his entire life.  “So we need to do something else.”

“Let’s go to the next part of our plan.” Shireen opened her purple notebook and prepared to write. “We need a list of nice things about Mr. Snow. That way we can tell your sister about him and she’ll think he’s actually interesting.”

The three of them stared at each other blankly. 

Rickon tried to think of something. He didn’t know much of anything about Mr. Snow. “He’s good at math. Write that down.” Shireen started doing just that. Of course, Sansa didn’t like math very much so he wasn’t sure how much it would help.

“What else?”

Rickon shrugged his shoulders, he couldn’t think of anything else.

“Your sister dresses really pretty,” said Lyanna. “Mr. Snow has nice clothes for a teacher. She’d like that.”

He leaned over the table to watch Shireen write down “well-dressed for a teacher”. He nodded his head approvingly. Sansa would like that. “What else?”

“I can’t think of anything else,” he said. Rickon didn’t know anything about Mr. Snow’s hobbies. He knew his sister though. She enjoyed all sorts of things, books and movies mostly. Sansa could talk about almost everything, sometimes she wouldn’t stop. 

“Do you think your sister could take us home again today?” asked Lyanna. 

“Yeah. Why?” Sansa had taken them home close to every day since school had started the previous week. 

“We’ll find out what she likes then we find a way to tell Mr. Snow.”

Shireen tucked her notebook into her backpack. Rickon was glad she didn’t throw any of the paper away. It had Mr. Snow’s name on it which meant there could be two teachers who thought a student had a crush on them. “Will that actually work?”

“Sure. It’ll give him something to do when he’s not teaching.”

“C’mon, lunch is almost over. I’ll go ask Sansa if she can take us home real quick before we have to go back to class.”

Rickon hoped this worked. His sister looked really sad when she said no one loved her. The only other grown up Rickon knew who wasn’t married was his older brother Robb and that was gross so Mr. Snow would have to do. He didn’t want his sister to keep thinking no one loved her but Rickon needed him to hurry up. Their first test was only a week away. 

*****

Sansa was coming to love her job at Black Dragon Academy. The days were busy, a joyful rush of students in and out of her room, lunch with fellow teachers, and evenings preparing lessons plans for the next day. She could not say it was getting easier, teaching was a challenging career, but Sansa could say she breathed easier. The first day, her stomach had rolled and twisted so much she’d skipped lunch and then had a couple glasses of red wine for dinner. Her students were a delight and she’d started a friendship with Jeyne Poole from the history department. Sansa wasn’t sure what to think of Jon Snow yet. He dutifully came to her classroom once a day to see how she was and then promptly left. As best she could tell, he rarely spoke with other staff members. 

So far, her biggest problem had been a bouquet of wilted daisies left on her desk. A note written in a childish hand had been next to it but it was unsigned. Sansa had panicked and promptly taken it to the main office in order to report the incident. She’d been trying to guess who left her the flowers ever since. 

“Seatbelts on?” Sansa waited for three confirmations before turning the ignition and driving away. “How was school today?” She loved this question. She was just as likely to hear about a new art project as she was a detailed complaint of that day’s lunch menu. Sometimes, she put more effort into holding back peals of laughter than she did driving. 

“Boring.”

“Worst day ever.”

“Sucked.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Sansa bit her lip, trying to keep any expression off her face that would betray her true thoughts.

“Hey Sansa, what do you think of beards?” asked Rickon. 

An image of Jon Snow came to her. A co-worker, soon to be employer, and completely disinterested she told herself.  “I like them very much. Are you thinking of getting one?” She was only half-serious with the question, it would be more than a few years until he’d be able to grow a beard in. 

“Oh, no. Beards are really ugly. I just wanted to make sure you liked them.”

She bit her lip again. Sansa may not understand all they talked about but she was determined to take their interests seriously.

“Do you think it’s important for people to dress nice?” Her brother seemed to want to ask the strangest questions that day. 

“Of course. Clothing should help people express who they are.” Sansa saw Lyanna and Shireen high-five each other in the back seat. 

“Ms. Stark, what do you do for fun? Like when you aren’t being a teacher,” said Lyanna.

“Are you asking if I have any hobbies? Well, I love to read, but that’s probably obvious. I bake sometimes and I sew as well. What sort of hobbies do each of you have?”

“What sort of boyfriend do you think I should be? I mean after I’m allowed to start dating.”

Sansa was not prepared for that question. She also wondered if her little brother was experiencing his first crush. If that was so, she hoped one of the little girls in the back seat was not about to get her heart broken. Sansa knew how painful that could be all too well. “Kind. Kind more than anything,” she answered. “Show interest in whatever brings her joy and if two people care about each other, well, then she would do the same. I think that’s a start.” Sansa had never given that sort of advice before, it was the best she could think to say. She would need to warn her mother Rickon was developing an interest in girls. 

The next day, as she sat in the teacher’s lounge next to Jeyne Poole, eating lunch, Sansa was still reflecting on that conversation. She wondered if she asked her parents the same sorts of questions when she was twelve. 

“Well, would you look at that.” 

Jeyne indicated the doorway where Jon Snow stood, awkward and uncomfortable. Sansa wasn’t surprised, she would feel the same if a room full of people turned their heads to stare at her curiously. Pointedly, she poured more of the lemon poppy seed dressing on her salad and returned to eating. “He’s probably hungry,” she said casually. Although, this was the eighth day of the school year and the first time she’d seen Jon in the teacher’s lounge. 

“He never eats with us. He used to but not anymore.” 

Sansa wondered if it had anything to do with his future change in position. She watched surreptitiously as he walked towards the refrigerator and pulled out a lunch box before glancing about the room. Their eyes met so she smiled, determined to be friendly. He did not smile back. 

“He’s walking this way,” Jeyne hissed. She waited until Jon was almost to their table before abruptly standing. “I’ve got papers to grade. I’ll talk to you both later.” Jeyne grabbed the remains of her meal and left the room. 

If Jon noticed, she couldn’t tell. “How are classes going?”

He asked her some variant of this question every day. A part of her found it incredibly considerate but another part wondered if she was some sort of assignment for him. “Very good. How about yours?”

“Also good.” He began to nervously fiddle with the handle of his lunchbox but didn’t say anything else.

Sansa searched for some new topic as the silence between them lengthened. “You have a Star Wars lunch box.” It was the best she could come up with. It also meant they were about to have a conversation about lunch boxes.

A smile almost appeared on his face. Almost. “I like Star Wars. Always have.”

“So does my older brother Robb.” Sansa flipped the top of her pink one. “My Little Pony. I like it too.” One of her many embarrassing secrets.

The threatened smile somehow forced its way through. Sansa had thought him handsome before, but it was very apparent now. The smile relaxed his features, showing off the soft gray in his eyes. “I should go. Work to do.” 

They said their goodbyes and he left. She did not see him for the remainder of the school day. After the final bell rang, Sansa set about preparing her classroom for the next day, humming to herself the entire time. She’d just finished cleaning the whiteboards when Jon entered. 

“I was told by one of my students you needed help with your wastepaper baskets.”

“My wastepaper baskets?” Sansa glanced at both of them, they seemed okay.

He gestured vaguely towards one of the walls where his room lay on the other side. “Yes. Your wastepaper baskets. I wanted to help you with them.” He switched to rubbing at the nape of his neck. 

“I think they’re doing fine but thank you for offering.”

“I guess Shireen misunderstood then. Can I help with anything else?”

“I was getting ready to leave.”

“Oh.” It was only a single word but Sansa thought he sounded disappointed but that wasn't possible. Jon usually seemed as if he was only in her company under duress or at least it felt that way. 

“It was very kind of you to offer though.”

“That’s good.” Jon winced as if he was in pain, either from stubbing his toe or banging his head against the wall, she couldn’t decide which. “That I was kind.”

“It is good.” Sansa wondered if she should offer him some candy. That was the last tool she had left to continue their conversation. 

“Yeah. I mean, you’re welcome. Not that I was kind.” Banging his head against the wall, she decided. Repeatedly. “I have to go.” He bolted from the room. 

Sansa stood there, listening to the silence of her room, wondering what she did wrong. Finally, she decided to go see him, feeling compelled to continue their conversation but it was too late. Jon Snow had already left for the day.

******

Elia knocked politely on the door to Sansa Stark’s classroom before crossing its threshold. “I know this is your free period so I’ll be brief.” Elia pitied the poor girl; she was now the target of her wife’s scheming. 

“Come in. I was only reading over some student assignments.” 

She started to stand but Elia motioned her to stay where she was. “I’m not one for formality. Save the effort for when it’s useful.” She did sit at the desk closest to Sansa though. There was plenty of room. Many students at Black Dragon already towered over her. “We’ve heard from a couple parents about you already.”

Sansa dropped her pen. “I’ll fix it,” she said frantically. 

“Oh, no dear, you misunderstood me. Good things. Apparently, your students are raving about you at home.” The development only encouraged Lyanna. She’d decided it was proof Sansa Stark was exactly what they were looking for. If it brought joy to their son, all to the better. 

“Oh, thank the gods,” Sansa mumbled, obviously relieved. Tension drained from her features and she almost slumped down in her chair. “I love my students.”

“I think they would say much the same of you.” Elia hoped they respected her as well, that was important too. “But, that’s not why I came by. Lyanna and I have a favor to ask of you. It’s a large task so will require more than one person to get it done.”

“I would be happy too.” Her expression reminded Elia of Ned Stark, they both wore the same sense of earnestness in their features. Sansa may resemble her mother but there was some of her father in there too. If that was so, all the better. 

Elia started to explain. She didn’t mention Lyanna’s hope to arrange a family dinner with the Starks. She expected her wife would have Catelyn in on the matchmaking soon enough.

*****

Jon thought he might be having the strangest day of his entire teaching career. He was only thirty, still young, or so he thought. Now, his students made him want to slap his desk and complain about kids these days. It started with his first class that morning. Rickon Stark had arrived early to start lecturing him on Pokemon. Jon had noticed his auburn hair and vague resemblance to Sansa. So, naturally, his thoughts drifted to his fellow teacher which meant reliving his horribly embarrassing sprint from her classroom the day before. Her hair had been loose, with the copper shade made brilliant where it lay resting against a navy blouse. Jon had stood there, like a dithering idiot, wanting to pay her some sort of compliment. He still couldn’t believe he’d managed to start a conversation over trash cans. The memory was humiliating. So was a Pokemon lecture from a twelve-year-old.

Later that day, Shireen Baratheon had told him all about Ms. Stark and her love for Pride and Prejudice. She’d then offered to give him a copy of her book. Jon had tried to politely decline but Shireen’s expression had turned stricken. Then she’d started peppering him with questions on why he refused to enjoy the same books as Ms. Stark. Jon somehow found himself in the school library borrowing a copy. 

After that, young Lyanna Mormont had stood in front of his desk, hands on her hips, and told him boys who didn’t know how to cook were total losers. Jon had stumbled for a response before saying it was important for grown-ups, boy or girl, to know the basics of cooking. Then she told him Sansa Stark was teaching her younger brother to bake. Jon had mentioned something about asking her for a recipe which somehow satisfied his student. 

Now, he sat in his mother’s office so they could enjoy lunch together. Instead, he was being told she expected him to voluntarily submit to torture. “You want me to do what?” 

“You heard me. I want you to run the Fall Spirit events.”

Fall Spirit was an annual event at Black Dragon. It started with a charity fundraiser and ended with a formal dance and party for students and their families. “But you and Elia always handle it,” he protested. 

“We did handle it but it’s your turn now.” She leaned forward and Jon grew suspicious, he’d learned to recognize when Lyanna Snow was going to outsmart him a long time ago. “We’re old, Jon. Elia and I want this to be our last year. Just yesterday, she told me our first trip after we retire is to go visit family in Dorne. She misses them.”

His mother had bested him, she knew he would not want to refuse Elia. One of his first memories was of her. Jon had been three, four at the oldest. He’d wondered why Rhaenys got to call her mom while he called her Elia. One day, he’d put the two words together which made Elia start crying. Jon had run and hid under a bed, thinking he was in trouble. Instead, Elia had come to pull him into her arms to explain what happy tears were. “That’s more work than I can do by myself. Why don’t you help me?” 

“You don’t need my help. Sansa Stark, our new teacher, has already volunteered.”

Jon opened his mouth to protest but stopped. So far, he’d used the word “good” fourteen times, had a conversation about lunchboxes, another about trash cans, and run away from her twice. He’d also stuttered, confused words, and broke out into a sweat in her presence. He also kept going back for more and Jon knew why. He could still hear her quiet humming when he’d found her cleaning the whiteboard. The hair on his arms were still standing on end where she’d touched him. Jon had no doubt why, none at all. “I’ll talk to her after the final bell rings later today.” 

“Wonderful.” Or a disaster, it could also be a disaster.

Jon waited until he heard the metal chimes signalling the end of classes before treading the now familiar pathway between their two rooms. She had on pants today, pedal pushers that showed off her long, perfect legs. Sansa had been humming again but stopped when she saw him.

She flashed a tentative smile, probably guessing he was about to ask how her day went. Jon wasn’t, he’d practiced several times first. “Apparently, we’re going to be working partners.” 

“Fall Spirit. It sounds exciting,” she said enthusiastically. Her eyes were round too. Lyanna Snow had been right, Sansa was the ideal person for him to work with. As soon as he figured out how to talk to her, that was. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good.” Fifteen times. “How was your day?” 

“Can I tell you something?” Sansa looked around the room with exaggerated movements, as if to check for any hidden kids. Jon wondered if it was appropriate to find the action adorable. Probably not. 

“Please.”

“I kept a bowl under my desk the first day just in case even though my stomach was so tense I couldn’t eat a bite. That night, I practically guzzled a couple glasses of wine. Now, I’m only down to one.” She drew her lips back and her brows arched. It was an overture, Sansa was nervous too, though he suspected for different reasons.

Either way, it didn’t matter. Sansa Stark hardly knew him and she’d demonstrated more courage with her admittance than he had so far. Jon owed her more than a stilted response and another pathetic retreat. “I’m a damn good teacher, even if some of my kids would disagree, and there are certain aspects of running a school that I do rather well at. However, I’m pretty awful at other parts. You’ve probably noticed.”

Jon expected her to say she had, but sweetly worded as he’d learned she had a talent for. She didn't. Sansa went to her desk to pick up her yellow candy jar. “Would you like some?”

He really wouldn’t. “I would love some.”

Sansa grabbed a couple of pieces before setting the jar on a nearby student’s desk. She pressed them into his palm before closing his fingers shut. “These are for you.”

Jon looked. “Strawberry taffy,”’ he blurted. “I love these. How did you know?” He tore the wrapper off one and promptly shoved it in his mouth. 

“I asked your mom yesterday. I hope you don’t mind.” After he’d initiated a conversation about wastepaper baskets and then run away in a panic.

He stared at her, but not from awkwardness or a desperate desire to run away. “Thank you, Sansa.”

“You’re welcome, Jon.” She picked up a notebook and pen and went to sit in the middle of her desks. “Let’s go to the talking place.” 

She meant her carpet. He glanced about her room, it was still decorated the same as it’d been the first day of the year. It was truly an inviting room, he wondered why he hadn’t noticed before. “Do you happen to have more of that strawberry taffy?”

“Bring the jar. I bought some lemon flavored ones too.” He did, coming to sit opposite her. Jon could not remember the last time he voluntarily sat on a classroom floor, he’d probably been close to the same age as the kids he taught. “Oh, look. My favorite book. Are you reading it?”

He glanced down. It was the copy of Pride and Prejudice he’d borrowed after Shireen Baratheon’s badgering. Jon had brought it along as a prop in case he couldn’t think of anything to say. “I just started.” He would, first thing as soon as he got home that evening. He suddenly had a desperate urge to read it. “I’ve been wanting to read it for awhile.”

“When you’re done, we can come here and talk about it.“

“I’d like that. If you want, we could do math problems in my room too.” Jon inwardly cringed, he’d been doing so good. Except, Sansa’s chin started to quiver and then a giggle escaped. She thought he’d deliberately made a joke. He’d happily let her go on thinking that. “There’s a test afterwards though, I’m very strict.” 

“I’m glad we’re going to be working together.” Sansa bit her lip and Jon was momentarily left with the impression she meant to say something else, only he did not know what it could be. “Shall we talk about Fall Spirit?”

He’d been worrying over it ever since lunch with his mom. “I was thinking for the party at the end we could have balloons and cake.” She thought he was making another joke. Jon could work with that too. “Or pie,” he said, making it sound like a question.

“I love pie.”

“There we go then. All settled.”

They spoke for another ten minutes or so before deciding to meet again Monday after school. As Jon returned to his class, he saw Rickon Stark in the hallway. The boy saw him, flashed a giant grin, and gave him two thumbs up. Jon did not understand kids these days at all. Still, he returned the gesture.

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

It was their second time eating lunch in her classroom. Yesterday, they’d sat across from the other and opened their lunch boxes. Their discussion started with a stilted conversation over the contents of their respective lunches and then drifted to a pause. Not the companionable sort of quiet, but the awkward quiet where each of them are frantically trying to think up a new topic. Naturally, that turned out to be the weather and they both vehemently agreed it was a fine summer day.

Once the weather ran its course, Sansa launched into the purpose behind their lunch meeting, to make plans and discuss ideas for the school’s Fall Spirit event. She’d spent the weekend thinking up ideas and putting together an outline of everything required. Jon responded to it all with the same enthusiasm she saw from bored students. Sansa recognized the glassy eyes, blank expression, and half nods from scores of children who were not enjoying her lesson plan. At one point, Sansa had even been tempted to call on him to get an answer. Instead, she’d offered him more of the strawberry taffy he seemed to enjoy and then made another run to the candy store for more of it. She’d bought twice as much the second time around too.

“Did you do anything special over the summer break?” Since the candy trick met with success, she was moving on to her next idea. Sansa spent the first week of classes inviting each of her students to share with others. The topic for the first day had been their summer adventures.

“Summer break?” His expression now reminded her of a student who’d just been informed of a pop quiz. Sansa nodded her head encouragingly. “I spent a week visiting my sister in Dorne and another week camping with friends. Oh, I remodeled a bathroom too.” Jon’s eyes went soft when he mentioned his sister. Sansa had heard about Rhaenys once or twice but didn’t know much of anything about her.

“That sounds like fun. You have a creative side too.”

“I don’t think laying tile is a particularly creative task.” Sansa disagreed. Imagining an end and then figuring out the path to it was a very creative activity. “How about you? Did you do anything special?”

Sansa’s hands itched for her to clap them together. If Jon was uncomfortable in her presence, she couldn’t tell. “I moved home and then found a job. I only moved into my own place the week before school started.” She’d spent a good portion of the past couple months looking for a new teaching position and spending time with her mother.

“Sounds busy.”

“It sounds dull,” she responded which made him grin. “So, what made you decide to become a teacher?” Normally, Sansa asked her students what they wanted to be when they grew up. This was mostly the same.

“I….like math.” Sansa leaned in, waiting for the rest of his answer. Surely there was more. “And that’s mostly it.”

“Oh.” Those were her only two questions. She needed to save the others for the next day. Sansa could not recall rationing out conversation topics before. She was usually quite at ease with other people but with Jon Snow, a fellow teacher, she felt a tongue-tied fool with cotton for brains.

“Sansa, a group of us are-oh, I thought you were alone.”

Saved by Jeyne Poole, her new hero. “We’re planning Spirit Week.”

“Sounds like a blast.” Jeyne’s tone implied differently. “A bunch of us are going out after work tomorrow. Do you want to come?”

The question was only directed at her she noticed. Jon had studiously returned to eating his sandwich. Sansa was tempted to ask if Jon was also included, it was rude to extend an invitation in front of him but held herself back. She peered at him, it was if he’d checked out of the conversation. “I’d love too,” she told Jeyne. “Send me a text with the when and where.”

Jeyne left the two of them alone and silence reigned once more. This was the second occasion she’d witnessed a distance between the two of them. Sansa felt a bitter taste in her mouth but told herself it was not her business. “Obviously you aren’t required to tell me but I can’t help wondering. Were the two of you in a relationship at one point?”

His eyes went big and round with horror. “No...no. I’ve never thought of her in that way. She’s not my….no.”

The bitter taste was gone. “I wasn’t sure. You don’t talk with other staff, do you?”

“No.”

Only her, as best Sansa could tell and even then, it wasn’t much at all. She wanted to ask more but didn’t. Jon was not her problem to solve or so she told herself. Sansa had a new job, new apartment, and her first big project. It was enough. “Should we get started?”

She pulled out her folders of research so they could continue the previous day’s discussion.

“Can I be honest with you?” She nodded her head, hoping he’d finally offer up some opinions. “This whole thing is absolute torture for me.”

“Oh.” Sansa stared down at all she’d done so far: the list of prizes, theme ideas, cake designs, fundraiser possibilities, and more. She’d wanted everything to be perfect. They’d only just started and she’d already ruined it. “Would you prefer to work with someone else?” Her voice sounded tinny to her ears. She would not cry in front of him.

Jon grabbed his neck and started rubbing his beard. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, his tone frustrated. “I can’t be that awful at this, can I?” She stared, bug-eyed, not certain how to reply. “Don’t answer. Let me put it this way. A car wash sounds great. My favorite type of cake is chocolate. That is the end of my opinions. I don’t care about themes or invites or anything.”

Her head fell. “I see.”

“Gods, I’m going from awkward to asshole.” She didn’t know how to respond to that either. “Let me try again. I’ll agree with all your ideas and I’ll be your errand boy. Give me jobs and tell me what to do. You’re in charge. All I ask is that I’m not responsible for picking napkin designs or anything. Could we do that?” He asked the question tentatively, as if unsure of her answer.

“No picking napkin designs,” she repeated numbly.

“And you’re in charge,” he said, in a way that implied this was the most important part.

Apparently, she didn’t know how to respond to anything he said. “I get to decide everything.” He nodded. “You still want to work with me."

Another nod. “I’m enjoying that part.”

He was? “We could do that. I want everything to be perfect. Of course, it’ll be hard to top it next year but we will.” Sansa didn’t understand his expression when she said that so she ignored it and went on talking.

*****

Rickon stood outside the door to his sister’s classroom, trying to decide. It was the third day in a row Sansa was eating lunch with Mr. Snow. Her door was closed too so he couldn’t see inside. Of course, that might be good in case they were having a makeout session or something.

“Go look, Rickon. We have to know if it’s working,” said Lyanna.

“Eating lunch together is kind of like a date. I bet they’re having a first kiss,” said Shireen.

Lyanna put her hands on her hips. “It’s against the rules to kiss at school. Everyone knows that.” She could be really bossy sometimes.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You aren’t moving.”

All he had to do was find out if they were girlfriend and boyfriend now. He could do it. Rickon pulled the door open to find Sansa and Mr. Snow eating lunch. They weren’t kissing and they definitely were not making out. Mr. Snow was eating a sandwich. Rickon guessed it was a ham sandwich; he hated ham.

“Rickon! You want to join us?” his sister asked.

“Great idea. Come on in.”

Rickon did so before studying the two of them. He was pretty sure they weren’t going out yet. If they were, then they wouldn’t be so happy to see him.

“Do you want some cookies?” Sansa passed him a couple. They were the very ones he’d made with Sansa the day before.

He thanked her before remembering not to stuff them both in his mouth at once. Sansa was picky about manners. No one was talking and they were both staring at him. “My sister likes to bake for people. Her cookies are the best. Have you had any?”

“No, Rickon, sorry. Haven’t had the pleasure.”

Rickon thought he embarrassed them for some reason but he didn’t understand why. It was only a question. “Sansa could make you some.” He was making it worse. Sansa’s face was squished up like it does when she thought she got a recipe wrong.

“It’s not necessary.”

“I’d love to make you some, Jon. That is if you would like me too.”

“Yes, please. That would be...good.”

He made himself stay still. It would be rude to fist pump in front of them plus Sansa told him it was bad manners. Lyanna and Shireen would want to know. Shireen would tell him that this was part of falling in love so their plan was working. Mr. Snow was still boring though while his sister was lots of fun. “Mr. Snow, do you like to do fun stuff? I mean, when you’re not being forced to teach.”

Sansa made a strange sound and covered her mouth. Rickon started to worry if he’d been rude again but she stayed quiet.

Mr. Snow briefly frowned but he didn’t seem angry at all. “I do lots of fun stuff. Since I’m forced to teach inside, some of my hobbies are outside. Last weekend, I played paintball with a group of friends. I also have a regular basketball game on Thursday nights with Mr. Wilder and several others. My friends and I also play Madden Football online too.”

Mr. Wilder was one of the gym teachers. He was kinda scary looking with bright red hair but it wasn’t pretty like his sister’s. “You play paintball?” Rickon couldn’t believe it.

“Have been for years. I’m good too.”

“Do you have a Playstation or an XBox?” Maybe Mr.Snow wasn’t boring. A person couldn’t be boring if they liked playing games.

“Rickon, it’s not polite to ask so many questions,” Sansa admonished.

“It’s not a problem, I really don’t mind,” said Mr. Snow. “I have both and probably more games than I care to admit.”

“I like Pokemon.”

Mr. Snow chuckled and stroked his beard. “I know. It’s important to have hobbies, isn’t it?”

Rickon nodded his head vigorously. “You have fun hobbies.”

“I’m forced to be a teacher but there is something I’m hoping will be fun next semester too. Do you want to know about it?”

“Yeah,” he exclaimed.

Sansa didn’t say anything but gave Mr. Snow a funny look  Rickon didn’t understand why she looked at him funny. Mr. Snow was being nicer than ever before.

“I’m starting an introduction to computer programming class next semester. Let me know if you’re interested.”

“Could Lyanna join too?” Rickon would gladly do homework for that class.

“I’d love that.”

Mr. Snow was like his older brother Robb. He wasn’t boring at all. A couple times, Rickon had been able to stay over with his sister. She’d make him cookies and popcorn and let him stay up late watching a movie he picked out. If Mr. Snow loved his sister, he could do all that and have someone to play games with. “Can I go tell her?”

“Sure.”

He hurriedly said goodbye and started to leave the room.

“What happened?”

“I can be good with kids.”

Rickon didn’t care about talking to them anymore so he didn’t ask what his sister’s question meant. Of course, Mr. Snow knew about kids, he was a teacher.

“Are they in love? Were they kissing?” asked Shireen.

“Gross. No!” Rickon drew in a deep breath before belting out, “MR. SNOW IS REALLY COOL!”

That evening, he sat at the dinner table with his Mom and Dad and Bran. He’d been thinking about Mr. Snow the entire afternoon and decided it was even more important that he marry Sansa. Rickon liked the idea of having another boy in the family since there was only him and Robb and Bran and their Dad. Plus, he was like Robb and he thought Arya had played paintball before. It was obvious they weren’t in love yet though. Sansa hadn’t even made cookies for Mr. Snow. Luckily for them, Rickon had taken care of that. He didn’t know how to make them go on a date either. Shireen was supposed to come up with an idea but she was completely useless so far.

“Dad, I talked to Mr. Snow today. He’s going to have a new computer class next semester.”

“That’s great. Are you planning to take it?” Rickon’s dad was always interested in his schoolwork. Usually, he was trying to make him do it.

“I want to. Lyanna does too so we’d be in it together.”

“It seems you and Lyanna are becoming close friends,” his mom said. “Are you looking forward to having more classes with her?”

“She plays Pokemon with me.” That was a stupid question. Lyanna and Shireen were his best friends, everyone knew that. “Did you know Mr. Snow’s classroom is right next to Sansa’s?”

“Well, that makes sense considering they have the same students.” Rickon’s dad didn’t understand at all. It’s probably why Sansa went to their mom with all her romance stuff.

“Also, they ate lunch together three days in a row,” he told Cat.

“Did they now?” she asked casually.

“Yeah. Plus, she offered to make him cookies.”

His mom set her fork down and stared at him. “Your sister loves to do nice things for people. I’m sure Mr. Snow will appreciate it.” She went back to eating her broccoli. Rickon thought broccoli was gross. “That reminds me, I’ll be at your school for some volunteer activities. Perhaps I’ll meet him.”

“You probably will. He’s always helping Sansa with stuff.” Rickon guessed he was. Once, Shireen told him Sansa desperately needed help and he’d asked what she needed help with. It didn’t occur to them that Mr. Snow would ask the question so she’d freaked out and said the wastepaper baskets. He’d raced from the room to help her so Rickon decided that meant he did it a lot.

His mom was staring at him again. She didn’t understand at all so Rickon didn’t know what to do. It was always his mom that made everyone in their family do stuff and he’d hoped she would be able to make Sansa go on a date. Shireen would need to come up with an idea soon. He liked Mr. Snow now and it was obvious he could be a part of their family. Plus, Sansa would be in love and she’d like that and Mr. Snow would be sort of like his brother which meant he’d never have to do math work again if he didn’t want too. Rickon would do computer work though. That would be fun.

*****

Elia pulled Sansa Stark’s latest report from her office printer and quickly scanned it. She wasn’t particularly surprised at the level of detail. Their newest teacher was usually the first to turn in lesson plans for the next week and her car was always in the school parking lot whenever Elia arrived in the morning, no matter how early the hour. She gave up any effort at reading after the second page as two items quickly became apparent. First, Fall Spirit was going splendidly and, second, her son was not contributing.

“We have a guest,” her wife said, knocking on her door. “I was just telling Cat how lucky we are to have her daughter with us.”

Elia pulled off her reading glasses and set them next to Sansa Stark’s overly wordy report. “It’s good to see you again, Catelyn. Have you been to Sansa’s room yet? It’s lunch so she should be available.”

The two women glanced at each other rather than answer, making her wonder. “I asked both her and our son to come down here for a short visit,” said Lyanna.

So they could both be blindsided with your matchmaking? “I’m sure they’re both eager to spend lunch with all of us.” In Elia’s small office no less.

“Mom! I didn’t know you would be here.” Sansa Stark embraced her mother and the two exchanged a short greeting. “Can you come see my room?”

“I’d already suggested it,” Elia interrupted. A cluster of people were now gathered around her desk and she was growing curious. “Jon my dear, can you tell me how Spirit Week is coming along?”

His eyes went round with alarm. “Good. No, great. Really great.” Jon gestured towards Sansa before continuing on, “She’s incredibly talented and has all sorts of ideas. It will be a great year.”

Catelyn Stark was beaming while her wife’s expression was smug. His sad speech was a lie but it’d charmed those it needed to charm.

Elia smiled tightly. “I expected no less.”

“I invited the Starks over for dinner next Saturday night,” Lyanna spoke in a tone meant to imply it was a casual suggestion, something almost forgotten.

“We should go!” A twelve-year-old boy with an auburn mop on his head crawled between Jon and Sansa’s legs before popping to his feet. “Can we go?”

“Rickon, what are you doing here?” his sister asked.

“I ate quickly because the food is so gross and then followed you. Can we go? Please!!”

Black Dragon employed an executive chef trained in King’s Landing. The cafeteria made use of local and organic food whenever possible too. “It is rather gross.”

“Yes, Rickon. Your sister and I already accepted the invitation.”

Sansa stared at her mother’s announcement. If her wife was successful, the clueless and happy couple would be married before the school year ended and their engagement notice would be in the local papers by Christmas.

Finally, her room emptied other than Jon who shut the door before collapsing into a nearby chair. Elia took a sip of her coffee and waited. He would speak when he was ready.

“I don’t know how to talk to her,” Jon said quietly. He sat slumped forward in his chair, dejected. He’d used the same voice so many years ago, back when he’d needed help understanding Rhaegar. Elia and Lyanna both had struggled to best explain something so complicated to such a young boy.

“Why do you think that is?” Elia knew. He may be shirking his share of work with Sansa but the admiration was genuine. “Sansa seems very friendly.”

“She’s been putting up with me. Friendly is an understatement.”

Her poor boy; Elia ached for him. “She’s new to our school and hasn’t been teaching long. Catelyn tells me she’s only just moved home again. It sounds like she needs a friend.” She paused for a second before adding on, “Perhaps a friend who contributes to Spirit Week as he volunteered to do.”

Jon grimaced. “I should have known you’d pick that up,” he said guiltily. “Do you think...nevermind. You’re right, you always are.”

Elia could think of a couple times where she’d been very wrong. “Would you like a suggestion?”

“Yes, please.”

“Introduce her to Jon Snow, the sweet man I know. Stop thinking about your job or this school or whatever future decisions may happen. She’ll love you, I’m certain.” He could interpret that how he best saw fit.

“You think so?” he asked hopefully. She did. “You’re always right.”

They spoke for a few minutes more and he left to return to his classes. Elia took Sansa’s report and tossed it into the recycling bin, confident that no more of them would be sent. Lyanna was right about Jon, that much was true; her boy was falling. She wondered if Sansa Stark felt the same way.

*****

Jon wondered what Sansa thought of him as he left Elia’s office the previous day. He’d kept right on wondering as he stared at his kitchen oven and when he called his mum to offer his help preparing dinner next Saturday. He suspected she didn’t think much of him at all. Jon couldn’t blame her. He seemed to show Sansa a different version of himself during every one of their interactions. Worse, he’d been unable to stop, making his pathetic excuses and explanations a big lie.

He’d woken that morning and put his conversation with Elia on continuous replay. An hour into the day, he sent her a quick text hoping for a favor. After that, there was nothing left but waiting for lunch. Finally, after a painful eternity, the bell sounded and his kids barreled out of the room. It was pizza day, one of the few meals they displayed any enthusiasm for.

Jon followed and found Elia laying in wait. “Here you go.” She pinched his cheek as she used to do when he was little.

Sansa wasn’t expecting him. She’d dropped by his room after the previous afternoon and told him it wasn’t necessary to keep meeting with her; she would ask for help if it was needed. “Jon.” It was only his name but it was enough.

“I brought lunch for us to share. It’s pizza from Hot Pies,” he said before noting her confusion and explaining, “You asked my mom so I asked yours. I didn’t think to check what kind so I got pepperoni. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay. Thank you.” Her arms hung limply at her side but her eyes roamed between the pizza box and meeting his own gray ones. She still didn’t know what to make of him. Jon couldn’t blame her.

“I was told by one of my students that boys who don’t know how to cook are complete losers. Well, I’ve been working pretty hard at my not being a complete loser skill, so I made you some lemon cookies too. It was a guess but with your lemon candy and you wearing yellow so often, it seemed a good guess.” Jon still chuckled at Shireen’s assertions, he’d yet to figure out what brought on that hidden insight from her. However, it was turning out to be good advice.

“You notice I wear a lot of yellow?”

Lemon yellow, sunny yellow, daffodil yellow. Jon always noticed but he didn’t want her to know that. “Well, not always. You wear blue and green. Red sometimes too and purple. All the colors. But not like a rainbow. One or two at a time.” Jon glanced at the floor and prayed for a hole to open up so he could fall into it. He couldn’t seem to stop his yammering. “Don’t feel bad though. I dress in monochrome.”

Sansa snorted and covered her mouth with surprise. “Teacher uniforms. I like the way you dress, it’s flattering.”

She’d complimented him, he couldn’t believe it. He was wearing dark gray slacks and a light gray button-up shirt so the monochrome was true. Elia told him the style was fashionable though, perhaps she’d been telling the truth after all. “Thank you,” he said heartfully. “Shall we eat? I’m starving.”

The two of them sat across from each other with the pizza box in the middle. Jon waited until she ate a couple bites before launching into the next part of his plan. “I’d like for the kids to pick this year’s charity for Fall Spirit.”

Sansa’s jaw dropped. A slice of pizza hung limply in her hand, forgotten. “That’s a good idea.”

“I’ll do all the work to make it happen and let you know the answer. Also, I’ll take over the budget if you want and work with the caterers.” She was still gaping at him. Jon rubbed his beard and explained, “We agreed to do this together and it wasn’t fair of me to dump everything on you, even if all of this is torture.”

“I see.”

No, she didn’t. Jon was shit at explaining himself to her. He held up a hand and pinched a couple fingers together. “To be clear, party planning is a trip through all the seven hells. Working with you is the opposite of that. I like you.” Now he sounded like one of their students. Jon wasn’t far enough gone to start talking about whether he like liked her or merely liked her though. That was a conversation he was a long way from being ready for.

“Oh. You like me?”

An image from Star Wars came to him. Stay on target, stay on target. He wondered how Sansa would react if she knew just how big a dork he was. “Yes, and I’m hoping we can be friends. But in an actual friends way, not in a friendly co-worker way.” Not quite the epic speech he’d pictured but it worked. He was a math teacher, not a poet.

He couldn't read her expression. Sansa’s eyes flitted from him to the pizza to the cookies and back again. “Have I….have I finally met Jon Snow?”

His breath escaped. She got it. “Yes. Do you like him? He’s a good person, I promise. Also, he speaks in the third person for no reason sometimes.”

Sansa grinned, it was the most genuine one he’d seen on her. The edge of one lip tilted slightly higher than the other. It was beautiful. “I do like him, and yes, I would like to be his friend.”

Jon held out his hand and she took it. Her nails were painted again, a darker shade of pink than yesterday he noticed. Her right index finger had black ink on it too. “Oh, good. Because you know they’ll make us sit at the little kid's table when we have dinner next weekend. Now we’ll have a friend to talk to.”

She laughed. It was the first time he’d managed to deliberately make her laugh too. “I bet they’ll make us do the dishes afterward.”

Jon couldn’t quite believe it. Sansa Stark was his friend. “And set the table.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Rickon thought the library was kinda like their secret lair now since it was where they did all their planning. Except it was the library which wasn’t really a secret since everyone knew about it. Also, it was full of books no one read instead of cool gadgets. Aso, the librarian told them to be quiet twice already which was a complete waste of time because they were the only ones there. Since they were in their secret lair and it was his sister, Rickon was also the boss and in charge of everything.

“No, Rickon. We aren’t going to do that. It’s the stupidest idea ever,” said Lyanna.

“Yeah, your sister would hate paintball. She likes pretty things, not gross paint.”

He slouched down in his seat. A paintball date sounded like a great idea to him. His sister and Mr. Snow were talking lots now and she seemed to like him. Once, he barged into her classroom during lunch time and they were eating pizza from Hot Pies together. Rickon started to get mad that they didn’t invite him first but then they gave him some pizza and let him stay. They were talking about Fall Spirit which he thought was really boring but they seemed to like it.

Rickon crossed his arms and slunked down even further. His friends weren’t cooperating at all. “They can’t go on a date if all they do is sit in her room.”

“We don’t know how to get them to go on a date,” said Lyanna. “We need to trap them somewhere.”

“We could lock them in the janitor’s closet,” said Shireen. “They’d be trapped there.”

Finally, a good idea. They’d be locked up together. Rickon had seen lots of movies, being locked up together was always romantic, except for the movies where they died afterward. Those weren't so romantic. “Let’s do it today. My sister will love it!” He knew Sansa. She really liked that sort of stuff.

“We could do it after school,” said Lyanna. She put her hands on her hips, in that bossy pose of hers. She was always telling him what to do even though he was obviously in charge. “Rickon, you be the one to talk to Mr. Snow. Tell him your sister needs help, that worked last time.”

Rickon hurried off to Mr. Snow’s classroom as soon as the bell signaling the day’s end sounded. He sat at his desk with a pen in one hand and the other tapping absently away. Rickon guessed he was grading the math test they had earlier in the day.

“Hi, Mr. Snow.”

His teacher glanced up in surprise. “Rickon. Can I help you with something?” He snapped the cap back on his pen before covering the stacks of paper. It was definitely the tests.

Rickon knew he would make a great teacher if he wanted too. He was very good at judging people, especially because they were usually the worst. “You don’t need to grade mine. I got an A.” It was worth a try.

“I hope you did but it’s important I still do my responsibility as your teacher.”

“My dad says stuff like that a lot.”

“Your father sounds like a smart man.” Mr. Snow smiled then. Rickon noticed he’d been smiling a lot more for the past week. He hoped it was because of Sansa. “Is there anything else you needed?”

Rickon went over his lines one last time. Shireen had been the one to help come up with the idea. She was the best at pretending even if she’d totally blown it with the waste paper baskets last time. “My sister asked me to get you. She’s trying to get something in the janitor’s closet but can’t reach.”

“There’s a step stool.”

There was? “It’s broken,” Rickon croaked.

“In that case….” Mr. Snow stuck his papers in a desk drawer and stood up. “Let’s go to Sansa’s rescue. What is she trying to get?”

Shireen hadn’t prepared him for any of these questions. He’d only practiced the one line. “I don’t know.” Rickon crossed his fingers behind his back. He wasn’t a little kid anymore but it wasn’t actually lying if you crossed your fingers behind your back. Everyone knew that.

It worked perfectly. They found Sansa in the closet jumping up and down to try and pull something off the shelf. “Oh, good. Could you help me?”

Mr. Snow’s smile got really huge. “I’d be glad too. What is it you needed?”

Rickon waited until he took another step into the closet and then slammed the door on them. Shireen and Lyanna started dancing around and making cheering motions. His stomach started to hurt. He didn’t want to get in trouble.

“Rickon, let us out,” came his sister’s muffled voice through the door.

“I can’t. It’s stuck for some reason,” he lied.

“Rickon, it’s Mr. Snow. Can you go to the main office and get a key?”

“We can do that for you,” said Lyanna. “We’ll hurry.”

“Yes, please hurry,” said Sansa.

Rickon felt a little bad for locking them up but they’d left him with no choice. They weren’t falling in love fast enough and it was already a whole month into the school year. “We’ll hurry.” He took a few steps away before asking his friends, more quietly this time, “Let’s go the tracks and walk around.”

“We have to walk really slow,” said Lyanna. “They’ll need at least fifteen or twenty minutes.”

The three of them wandered slowly down the hallway. Since school was out, there was no one around to rescue Sansa or Mr. Snow. It was turning out to be a great day.

“Oh, wait. I just thought of something,” said Shireen in a rush. She ran back to the closet and then returned to them. “I turned the light off. It’ll be more romantic if they’re in the dark,” she explained

“That’s a great idea.” Rickon’s stomach wasn’t hurting anymore. He was a genius.

*****

Sansa tried the doorknob one more time, hoping, but it was useless.

“It shouldn’t be very long. The office isn’t that far away,” Jon said in a manner which she thought was meant to be comforting. “Are you claustrophobic at all?”

“No.”

“Good. What were you after?” Jon reached above their heads to feel along an upper shelf but came up empty.

They were in a tiny closet, small enough so their bodies almost brushed against each other. Almost. It was warm too, making her consider removing the sweater she wore before ultimately deciding against it.

She stood facing him. Jon was quiet but the painful awkwardness he used to display in front of her had largely disappeared. Sansa had realized over the past week that quiet was a part of his nature. They spoke easier although she still initiated most conversation. She’d made a study of him during that time and formed the impression Jon put a great deal of effort into planning his responses. Sansa had decided to take the gesture as a compliment. Jon was doing more than trying, he was actively working to show her he wanted too. That was a very great compliment indeed.

Right now, he struck her as more relaxed and patient, content to wait until the door opened. “Do you want to play twenty questions?”

“The broom,” he answered quickly.

“Well, that’s not fair,” she stammered. “How did you know?”

He grinned, a curious mix of self-conscious and self-satisfied. “There are only six things in here. My odds were good.”

“You cheated,” she accused.

“I used stati---” The fluorescent overhead light flickered off suddenly, turning their little closet space into a pitch black hole. “Fucking hell.”

Sansa snorted, surprising even herself. She reached out to try the door handle once more, hoping it had magically unlocked.

“Sorry,” they both said, speaking over the other.

Her hand landed on top of his, apparently they'd shared the same hope. It didn’t matter; the door was locked. The two of them would be waiting for at least a few more minutes. Sansa stayed still, with her arms crossed over her chest, wondering what to do. In the close confines, she could detect his scent. It wasn’t as heavy as cologne would be, perhaps it was the faint trace of his soap or something he used in his beard. She could hear Jon’s breathing too, the slow inhale and exhale of air. He wasn’t agitated or upset, at least not that she could tell. She didn’t know what to say. They were trapped in the dark, in a tiny closet.

“So, come here often?” Jon gasped and she heard what sounded like a hand slapping over his mouth. “I can’t believe I asked you that. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s funny.” Strangely, it eased some of the tension in her body. Sansa let both arms fall to her side and leaned against the edge of a shelf. Her calf brushed against Jon’s pants so she adjusted away from him, hoping he didn’t notice. “My brother is looking forward to tomorrow night. He’s been talking about it all week.” It was odd really, Sansa couldn’t understand why Rickon or his friends were so eager to spend a Saturday night with their teachers.

“He is?” Jon sounded even more surprised than her. “That reminds me, I have the results of the student poll. Almost unanimous for the Northern Direwolf Conservation Fund.”

“Good.” Sansa had only ever seen pictures of them before; supposedly there were less than a hundred left in the wild.

“Yeah, almost unanimous. There were three write-in votes for the Rickon Stark drop out fund.”

Sansa closed her eyes, feeling a small measure of second-hand embarrassment. “Those three...peas in a pod as the saying goes. I hope you’re ready for all of them to descend upon you at once tomorrow.”

“All three are coming? Des my mother know?” Jon practically squeaked out the second question. Sansa suspected he’d be bug-eyed too if she could see him.

“Yes, she knows. Those three have been friends their whole lives. I’m not sure they know how to be apart.” Sansa grew curious. She told herself it wasn’t her business and she had no right to ask. They were friends, but casual friends. Conversation was growing easier but she could still ruin it with a single stupid question. “Have you ever had anyone like that?”

“No. Have you?”

“Not in a long time.” Sansa was tempted to give him a glib answer. The truth was she made friends easily. It was the same with conversation too but it was mostly the superficial sort. “I haven’t lived in Winterfell since before I started college. I’m back now but all my old friends are gone.”

“You get on well with everyone here from what I’ve seen. The grown-ups and the kids.” And Jon did not, that part went unsaid.

Sansa wanted to push further, that was still a mystery and one she eventually intended to solve. Whether she went further, she’d yet to decide but she wanted to know. Jon was devoted to the school and she could tell he took genuine pleasure in teaching. He wanted friendship with her and somehow, he’d earned Rickon’s liking. That was not an easy task, her brother considered almost everyone either “the boringest” or “the worst” or both. “I want to do well here. There are times I still wonder how I got the job. And I can’t believe I’m saying this to you….”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised.

The closet was getting warm but she couldn’t decide if it was from an actual change in temperature or not. “How much longer do you think it will be?”

“Any minute now. It’s not like they took a walk to the gym first, right?”

“Good point. Are you glad the week is over?”

A couple minutes later, the closet door open with a sudden burst of cool air and bright light. Sansa shielded her eyes and heard Jon hiss under his breath.

“How did it go?” Rickon asked brightly.

“It went...good,” said Jon.

“We rescued you,” said Lyanna proudly.

“Hey, Sansa. Can we go over to your house to bake stuff?” Rickon asked.

“Sure, if your parents say it’s okay.” It was Friday and she didn’t have any plans that night anyway. Sansa found herself eating dinner at her parent’s house a couple times a week and one night a week tended to go out with other members of the school staff.

“We already asked,” said Shireen.

“They said yes,” said Lyanna.

“Mr. Snow, would you like to come over with us? Sansa is really good and you should learn how too.”

Her brother sounded so eager, her heart melted some. Still, she didn’t know how Jon would feel about an unexpected invitation to her home with three twelve-year-olds in tow. Sansa readied herself to echo the invitation but then noticed his expression.

Jon had not worn his awkward face in more than a week. “I’m sorry, Rickon. I have plans tonight.”

“Oh.” Rickon didn’t try to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Maybe another time, yeah?” That brightened her brother’s expression some.

Sansa wondered about Jon’s plans, if he had a date or maybe a girlfriend. She didn’t think he had a girlfriend, not after the earlier revelation. She could be wrong though. Sansa also could not ask in front of the kids. She had no right to ask at all if she was honest. “Well, another time then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it.” Jon said a quick goodbye and then retreated to his classroom.

Sansa watched him leave, feeling strangely disappointed. “You three ready to go?”

*****

Jon should have gone over to Sansa’s the previous night and he was still kicking himself over it. He’d not missed the way her face perked up at her brother’s suggestion. It almost shocked him, Sansa wanted him to join in. Instead, he’d panicked and bowed out. He’d not been prepared for an invitation to her place or to hang out with a gaggle of kids. Jon had wanted to though. Grenn and Pyp would have yelled at him if they knew he’d passed up a chance to see her out of school in order to hang out with them. So, Jon kicked himself the entire night and went right on doing so while on his run the next morning and then back at his parent’s house to help them get ready for dinner with the Starks.

“Mom, I’m a grown man. You don’t need to groom me.” Jon attempted to pull away but his mother only tightened her grip on his chin and went back to combing his hair smooth.

“It’s important for you to look presentable. Besides, you’re a handsome boy and I want to show you off.” Finally, she released him and took a step back to appraise his clothes. He was dressed in a dark blue polo and black khakis. Jon thought she was lucky he hadn’t worn a t-shirt, he’d been tempted to do exactly that. “You need more color in your wardrobe.”

He had three colors already, that was plenty. Finally, Jon passed her inspection and went off to the kitchen in search of some water. He wanted something stronger but stinking of Scotch was probably not the best way to start off the evening.

“Why is it so important that I look presentable tonight?”

Elia put down her wooden spoon and turned to face him. She always did most of the cooking and been the one to teach him. “My poor little boy.”

He wasn’t that little, she barely reached his chest. “Have I done something to earn your pity?” It was possible, he couldn’t dismiss the idea entirely.

She squeezed his cheeks and shook her head ruefully. “You’ve been spending a great deal of time with Sansa Stark.”

Why wouldn’t he? “I took your advice. I think we’re on our way to becoming good friends.” That was as much of a confession as he was prepared to give. Jon wasn’t ready to admit aloud that he’d developed a crush on the pretty Sansa Stark.

The doorbell rang, interrupting further conversation. Jon chugged the final sip of water, wishing it was something stronger once more. He’d finished reading Sansa’s book and was looking forward to talking with her in a place that wasn’t a classroom. Of course, they’d only upgraded to the house he grew up in so that wasn’t saying much.

Jon left the kitchen and was immediately greeted by a trio of kids talking away and a round of introductions between people that already knew one another. He hung back, not wanting to get caught up in the hum of activity.

Sansa wore a light yellow sundress, sleeveless and with the top low enough he could see a good bit of cleavage. Jon told himself not to look even as he wondered if the color was for him. He’d stupidly admitted to noticing how often she wore it. Her nails were a deep red instead of one of the pink hues she typically preferred. He wondered if that meant anything before chiding himself over the idea. It was the weekend, Sansa probably dressed differently outside of school. That wouldn't be for him either.

His mother grabbed him by the wrist to pull him into the mix of people. “Jon, meet Eddard Stark. I think he’s the only person here you don’t know.”

“Hello, sir. It’s nice to meet you.” He shook the man’s hand, hoping his own wasn’t clammy. It was going to be a long night.

“Call me Ned. Everyone else does.” Jon was struck by Mr. Stark’s gray eyes, they were almost the same shade as his. They were warm and friendly too, like Sansa’s. “My father was the one everyone called sir.”

Jon’s own father demanded that sort of respect. “Ned.”

His mother chased everyone into the living room and started taking drink orders. Jon wished for Scotch again. Or Bourbon, he wasn’t particular. He’d take stale beer too.

“This is a nice house. Would it be offensive if I called it adorable?” asked Sansa. She’d come to stand beside him while the other adults congregated in the middle of the room.

“My mother calls it her gingerbread house.” It was a large, rambling home with three stories, a large verandah, alcoves, a pair of widow’s watches, a small balcony off one bedroom, and a whole bunch of useless detailing to be found everywhere. “Once, when I was little, I climbed up on the roof to try and eat it.”

Sansa huffed a quiet laugh. “Now, that is adorable.”

“It tasted bad.” Maybe the evening wouldn’t be horrible after all; maybe he’d worried over nothing.

“Mr. Snow, where’s your room?” asked Rickon.

“Do you have any good games?” asked Lyanna.

“What do you do for fun around here?” asked Shireen.

Jon gulped, he had no responses to any of those questions. All the adults were staring at him expectantly too. “I’m sorry Rickon but I don’t have a room here. I moved out a long time ago.” All three of them immediately deflated. He frantically searched for something they might enjoy. Jon had planned for Sansa’s company, he hadn’t thought past that. “You want to go in the backyard? I was younger when it was built but there might be something you like there.”

“I’ll come with too.” Sansa leaned into him and whispered conspiratorially, “You might need the backup.”

Jon fought back the urge to shout out, “Thank the gods.” Instead, he led a pint-sized train through the kitchen and into the backyard. His mother seemed to be almost glowing over his suggestion for some strange reason, as did Catelyn Stark. “I was younger than the three of you when this was built but you might still enjoy it.”

”I feel as if we stepped into a fairy garden.” Sansa twirled about in wonder. His mother had always enjoyed gardening and their backyard was the result. It was a mix of plants and flowers of every type with little stone paths sprinkled about. “The fort is amazing. You must have loved it.”

The three kids immediately ditched them to climb the railing into the tree fort. “It was built over a couple years.” Jon had passed hours of his childhood in the fort when he wanted to escape to somewhere peaceful.

“Mr. Snow, come up here with us,” Rickon called down to them. “Sansa, you can come up too if you want.”

“I feel loved,” she mumbled.

“You are.” Sansa’s neck snapped to stare at him. “Your kids. I hear a lot about you from students.”

She didn’t answer, choosing to pull at the skirt of her dress to peek at her shoes. Jon noticed the short heel on them for the first time.

“C’mon guys.”

“Yeah, hurry up!”

“I’ll go first and help you up. If you want, that is.”

“Please.”

Jon grabbed the side and hauled himself up onto the fort’s base. There was still another level above him and a rope bridge connecting another section too. “There are steps over there,” he said, pointing to some pieces of wood nailed to the side of the tree.

Sansa wrinkled her nose but didn’t give any other answer. Instead, she climbed up herself and dropped onto the platform with a self-satisfied air.

“What did you do up here, Mr. Snow?”

It was uncomfortable to be called Mr. Snow outside work. The three of them called Sansa by her first name but she was a sister to Rickon and the other two had known her their entire lives. Jon was merely the math teacher he wasn’t even sure they cared for. He was well aware of his reputation amongst his students. He’d continue being uncomfortable then if he couldn’t decide whether it was appropriate to ask them to call him Jon. “Lots of things. Once I snuck our computer out and ran an extension cord. I got in pretty big trouble for that.” It seemed a great idea until the rain started anyhow.

“Are you still going to have a computer programming class next semester?” asked Lyanna suspiciously.

“I am. Are you going to join?”

“I’m going to get an A.”

“What else did you do in here?” asked Shireen.

Jon searched for Sansa but she’d wandered towards the fort’s edge. She wasn’t listening to him at all. Did she find him boring? “Let me show you something.” Jon pulled open the thick wooden chest that sat underneath a small wooden roof. “Here we go. A few hundred matchbox cars. More or less.”

“My sister is really nice, isn’t she?”

He froze. Jon glanced over at the woman in question. “Sansa is very nice. I made her lemon cookies only last week because she’s so nice.” Inwardly, he prayed that was an appropriate answer.

“That’s good. You should do that more,” Shireen practically ordered him.

“Okay, I will.” Jon didn’t know if this was typical conversation for twelve-year-olds. He was capable of teaching them but he didn’t understand them. Sansa didn’t seem inclined to rescue him either.

“Let’s play with the cars.”

Jon wasn’t sure how it happened but he ended up being roped into matchbox car races until his mother came out to announce dinner was ready. He felt disappointed at her appearance. Jon had managed to relax long enough to forget he was supposed to be nervous.

It took all of five minutes into their meal for him to remember. He sat at the end of the long dining table with Sansa opposite him. The three kids somehow managed to squeeze between them, their chairs so close they were almost sitting on top of the other. Jon then spent the entirety of dinner being plied with questions about video games from Rickon, quizzed over his opinions on movies by Shireen, and submitted to what felt like a job interview by his own mother. It grew worse when Catelyn Stark seemed to do the same to Sansa. It further escalated as the two of them were grilled over the school year, their personal interests and hobbies, and their current relationship status.

Jon felt envious of Ned Stark who studiously ate his food, obviously enjoying being ignored by everyone around him. By the time they finished eating, he felt worn out and exhausted. He’d not been prepared for any of it and hoped to never repeat such an event again in his life.

“Jon, Sansa, why don’t the two of you clean up for us before dessert is served?” asked Elia. A part of him couldn’t believe they’d guessed that would happen. He could not recall ever being so filled with joy to be correct before.

Sansa shot to her feet. “Great idea. Jon?”

“I would love to.” Jon practically ran to the kitchen with Sansa right behind.

In the room’s quiet, he shut his eyes and took a series of deep breaths. He wasn’t alone but Sansa’s presence was comfortable to him now, especially after the interrogation that took place.

“Are you okay?”

He opened his eyes to see Sansa gazing back at him with a concerned smile. “I am now. Sorry, I expected to sit through dull talks about the weather or vacation plans or something. I didn’t expect that…” He waved in the direction of the kitchen’s closed door.

“I didn’t either.” She turned abruptly to face the door and stood there silently before meeting his eyes. “It’s almost like….do you think?”

“Do I think what?”

“Nevermind….I’m being silly. I have a tendency to read into situations so ignore me.”

Jon wasn’t capable of ignoring her, he’d figured that out on the very first day of school. There was no point in even trying. “I finished the book. Pride and Prejudice, I mean. Last night.” Real smooth.

“That’s my favorite book.”

He knew; that’s why he read it. “It’s not often I come across characters I relate to so well.”

“Elizabeth?”

“No. Mr. Darcy.” Something in her expression shifted that he didn’t understand and she smiled brightly. Relief filled him, he hadn’t screwed that up. “I guess we should start cleaning.” He turned the sink’s hot water on, keeping it to a slow drizzle. Jon intended to drag it out as long as he could.

“Let’s clean up as slow as we can. Please?”

“Read my mind.” He wasn’t particularly excited about returning to the din of people and their grilling either.

Sansa came up to stand beside him and watch the sink slowly fill. “Next week, we should eat lunch in your room. It’s only fair since you made such a sweet effort to read my book. We’re going to do math problems together, remember?”

Jon cringed at the memory, he’d hoped she’d forgotten about that. “It was only a joke. You don’t have to.”

“How about if I want to?” She nudged him ever so slightly with one hand against his wrist. “I’ll warn you though, I’m horrible about showing my work.”

He chuckled. Sansa had been in his room a few times even though they always ended up in hers without really planning on it. “I could bring pizza.”

“I feel bad. You’re always bringing me pizza.”

That wasn’t exactly true. He’d been arranging delivery to Elia and having her bring it to him. “I don’t mind.”

“Then bring me more.”

She was easy to talk with, at least after he’d gotten over his painful awkwardness around her. Jon was not one for small talk or casual conversation. He hated crowds and his skin itched when he was in situations that required him to mingle with strangers. With Sansa, he sensed she would enjoy the same sort of company he did. There was only one way to find out. “Sansa?”

“Jon?”

This was the other part of the evening he’d prepared for. They were someplace besides the school, familiar territory, and they were alone. “I was wondering...I think of us as friends now and friends often do things together. So I was wondering if you wanted to do something together?” Well done. Excellent. Jon could at least congratulate himself on going the entire evening without making use of the word “good” though. He could at least say that much.

Sansa rubbed her lips. “I’d love too. Nothing school related. Only useless stuff.”

“Really?” He couldn’t believe it.

“Really. We’re friends, aren’t we?” Sansa scooped a handful of bubbles from the sink. “Friends do this.” She promptly blew the bubbles in his face. “And this.” She flicked water at him.

Jon didn’t know what to say at first. “I changed my mind. You’re getting a math test.” Her sweet laugh told him he’d guessed correctly.

*****

Elia took a sip of her hot coffee and leaned back in the chair. If her wife was seeking an ally, she’d gained one, if the evening served as evidence.

“What do you think, Ned?” Cat asked her husband.

“I think he’s a fine man,” he answered diplomatically. “Otherwise, I am a neutral third-party when it comes to all of this.”

“He reminds me of you.” Lyanna reminded her of a cat stumbling upon a bowl of sweet cream upon hearing that.

“Neutral third-party,” he repeated, more forcefully this time.

“Shall I have him pick her up for the fall party?” Lyanna asked

“I’ll see if I can take her dress shopping.”

Elia listened to all of this. She’d decided not to interfere after witnessing the two return to the house for dinner. Secretly, she was beginning to think their scheming was only hurrying along what would have happened naturally. Her son was smitten and she suspected Sansa Stark had some interest as well.

“I know! We’ll trick them into it!” said Shireen loudly from where the three kids sat clustered together on the other side of the room.

Rickon raised his arms to strike some sort of victory pose. “We are the smartest people ever!”

“What do you think that’s about?” Elia asked.

“We’ve learned with the three of them, there’s usually no point in asking,” said Cat.

“No good ever comes of it,” Ned echoed, shaking his head.

A feminine laugh could be heard from the kitchen, quickly followed by the deeper one of her son. Elia smiled.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things about this chapter:  
> \- My theme song while writing this was The Platter's version of Smoke Gets in Your Eyes. I have no explanation why; it spoke to me for some reason.  
> \- At a couple points, I flailed my hands around with excitement while writing this.  
> \- Robb will always be an MVP.

Sansa’s body buzzed with excitement and trepidation as the bell rang, signaling the school day’s start. The week had been a busy one, starting with pajamas and Hot Pies pizza on Monday to a school-wide treasure hunt the day before. That had turned out to be an even bigger hit than she would have guessed, leaving her worn out but thankful. It was now Friday which meant a charity car wash and water sports in the school fields afterward. Only, this day’s events were Jon’s responsibilities and not hers. Sansa wasn’t overly nervous about that, she was only a little nervous. The right amount of nervous, or so she told herself.

As planned, Elia walked through the door, ready to sub the morning classes. “Are you ready, dear?”

“Yes. These worksheets should keep everyone busy for you.” Sansa had learned Elia would be the person taking over only the previous afternoon so she’d spent a couple hours the night before revising and reviewing the questions before her employer saw them. “Thank you.”

They said their goodbyes and, as Sansa shut the door, she heard Elia say, “Does anyone else want to watch the new Spiderman movie?”

She ran to the teacher’s bathroom, quickly changed into her swimsuit and cover-up, slathered on another layer of sunscreen, and made her way to the school gymnasium where Jon waited for her. Sansa wasn't sure what to expect so she’d put together a checklist of tasks that could have been overlooked. She found him laughing with Tormund Wilder, one of the school coaches, and bouncing a football on his knee. Jon’s back was to her and she heard laughter. Easy laughter. Was he laughing at her and why wasn’t he panicking more?

Tormund loudly cleared his throat and the laughter died. “We’ve got company. I’ll leave you both to your work.” He smiled in that overly presumptuous, friendly way of his, and disappeared into an office.

Jon lightly kicked the ball away from the two of them. He wore a pair of gray gym shorts which showed off a pair of muscular legs, to her pleasure and surprise. She’d never seen him in anything other than khaki or business casual style slacks. His white t-shirt put his torso’s outline on display, causing Sansa to wonder if one of those delicious Vs was hidden underneath.

“Is something wrong?”

Sansa pulled herself back from her reverie. This wasn’t the time to ogle Jon Snow’s body and it wasn’t particularly proper of her either. They were on the path to being great friends but they still had a potential boss/employee dynamic in their future too. She’d not forgotten that. She shook her head, answering his question and maybe reminding herself too. “I wondered what else needed to be done.”

“Nothing needs to be done. It’s all taken care of.”

That was impossible. She pulled one of her lists from a folder in her bag and scanned it. “The hoses? What about soap?”

“I’m quiet, Sansa, not incompetent.”

“That’s not what I meant,’” she protested.

“I know. May I see your list?” He held out his hand and she gave the sheet of paper over. “Yeah, this is all done. Do you want to see the water balloon setup?” She didn’t miss the underlying pride when he asked the question. She also remembered Jon had promised he would not only help, but be an equal partner.

Sansa decided to trust him. She stuck the list back in her bag and deliberately left it behind. “I would love too,” she said honestly.

“Come on.” Jon led her to the field behind the gym. A couple pairs of water slides sat at the edge along with a sprinkler set up. The entire field was also littered with water balloons, some alone and others in a small pile. More in buckets. Students were also allowed to bring their water guns and super soakers. The field would be turned to mud within minutes.

Sansa covered her mouth, wanting to hide some of her shock. “How many are there?” At least a thousand, maybe even more.

“Almost two thousand balloons.” Jon shrugged his shoulders and there was something to his expression that made her think of a boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. “It’s less an accomplishment than it looks. There are kits that allow you to make fifty at once. A couple of my friends helped in exchange for me assisting them move in a few weeks.”

“I would have helped you.”

“I know.” Jon’s lips curled up into the small smile she’d learned to recognize. It came out in moments of contentment for him. The first time she’d seen it was the day when he surprised her with pizza. The second was in the kitchen of his parent’s house. It greeted her almost every day now. “It was important I do my part though, considering all you’ve done.”

Sansa wondered if he was referring to the past week only, but a part of her suspected not. She still thought on his admittance to understanding Mr. Darcy quite often. If there truly were moments that forced an immediate shift in perspective, that was one. The following Monday, Sansa stopped trying to initiate conversation and merely enjoy the quiet. Slowly, he shared little stories of his childhood and his hopes for the school. For all his earlier claims otherwise, Jon Snow was passionate about what he did. She’d ended up confiding in him about the loneliness that crept up on her in Oldtown and her decision to move home again. Jon patiently listened to it all. “We make a good team.”

“Very good team.” That little smile was back again.

Two hours later and all Sansa could think was that her decision to trust Jon had been a wise one. The car wash was running perfectly with students directing traffic, taking payment, running supplies, and, of course, washing the cars. She’d jokingly suggested he should open one and he’d stammered a thank you. She’d thought Jon’s cheeks reddened some too. Sansa told herself it wasn’t completely adorable.

Sansa grinned to notice the next vehicle pull up. It was the second time her mother made an appearance but it was her father’s car this time around. “You’re back!”

Catelyn Stark approached her to watch the kids working. “Your brother wants the Stark family represented. I’ll be back with Robb’s car next.” She cocked her head as Rickon and his friend worked. “They are an enthusiastic bunch.”

“It makes up for the lack of skill.” Sansa watched with dismay as her brother squirted most of a bottle of soap onto the car’s hood.

“Is Jon Snow nearby?” her mother asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“He’s here. Somewhere.”

Perhaps sensing their conversation, Jon suddenly appeared in front of them. “Hello again, Mrs. Stark,” he greeted politely before offering his hand.

Sansa studied his features closely for any sign of tension or worry but found nothing. She remembered the grilling they’d received at his parent’s. She’d half expected to have bright lights shoved in their faces and rubber hoses to be brought out. Jon had been almost frantic by the end of it and she wasn’t much better. Sansa had briefly thought they were trying their hands at matchmaking but dismissed the idea as silly. Catelyn could be relentless but Sansa knew she wouldn’t go that far.

“Are you looking forward to taking Sansa tomorrow night? She’s been talking about it all week.”

Sansa tried to hide any embarrassment at her mother’s question. She would look forward to any opportunity for dancing. It’s why she’d begged Robb to come; that way she knew there would be at least one person who would dance with her. If you couldn’t count on your big brother, who could you count on? Her mother made it sound as if Sansa had some great crush on him. “I think Jon has a lot to do right now and I feel bad keeping him here.”

“Yeah, I should go. It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Stark.”

“Cat.”

“Cat. Goodbye, Sansa.”

Was that disappointment or relief she heard in his voice? Sansa couldn't decide. “Have fun.”

“I like him,” said Catelyn.

“I do too. He’s nice.” Jon was more than nice, she wasn’t being fair and this was her mother. Normally, Sansa confided in her about most everything. “I wasn’t sure at first but I’m coming to like him very much. The more we talk, the more I like him. He’s also funny.” She clamped her mouth shut after that. Sansa told her mother most everything.

“I understand.” They said their goodbyes and Catelyn left with a promise to return with Robb’s car.

“Rickon, can you use less soap? I’m going to get more.”

“I can try. No promises.” Rickon squired the rest of the bottle onto the next car.

Sansa rolled her eyes and went off in search of more soap, finding Jeyne Poole doing the same thing. “I’ve never seen so much soap used at once.”

Jeyne giggled. “It’s the bubbles, kids never grow out of that.” She quieted then and her expression grew somber. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course. What’s wrong?” Sansa tried to guess the problem. The secret admirer never reappeared and that was being kept quiet. Was there a problem with the school dance and presentations tomorrow? It could also be disappointed students, perhaps Spirit Week had not been the success she’d thought it was. “Are parents upset about this week? Are you hearing complaints?”

Jeyne drew back with surprise. “No, nothing like that. It’s about Jon Snow. I’m not implying anything, I’m really not. He said hello to me earlier and we talked for a couple minutes. I saw him do the same with another teacher.”

“We’re not having an affair if that’s what you’re implying.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Jeyne said hastily. “If the rumors are true, and we both know they are, well, the Jon Snow running things today is someone I wouldn’t mind working for. I wanted to say that whatever you’re doing, please keep doing it.”

Sansa wanted to protest, she hadn’t done anything; then she remembered the lunch in the teacher’s break room at the start of the school year. She’d been torn between pitying him and admiring his courage. She’d not given up, that was all. “I will.”

She didn’t know what else to say so she grabbed another bottle of soap and delivered it to her brother’s waiting hands. He promptly went about emptying it as quickly as he could.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say your brother is determined to spend every dragon we raise to cover his soap needs. Do you think it’s because we chose not to go with his dropout fund?” It was Jon standing next to her, shielding his eyes with one hand. She hadn’t heard him approach.

Sansa hummed with amusement. “I think you're onto something. Next year, we'll need to meet his demands or it could be a disaster.”

“You’re right, I think we will,” he said lightly. “Next year.” Her eyes followed the motion of his arm as it slowly fell to his side. Jon’s t-shirt was damp in several places which only made the muscles underneath more noticeable. That included his shoulders; Jon was tense.

Some instinct led her to ask, “Will you come with me to my car? I need help getting something.”

“I would love too.” The relief in his voice was unmistakable. “Lead the way.”

She did, towards the small teacher’s parking lot where her car sat resting underneath an old oak tree, protected from the sun and people. “Is this better?”

That earned her another of his little smiles; the third one of the day. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess. We can’t stay long but we won’t be missed for a few more minutes.”

Jon linked his hands together and raised his arms into a stretch before leaning against her car. “Told you I had this, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Sansa giggled as a devilish idea came to her. “Did I mention Elia told me there will be a school talent show next month? I think she said something about you being in charge too.”

Jon’s head snapped as he turned to stare at her, all panicked eyes and sharp frown. “She did not,” he said, as if denying the statement would make it not true.

“No, she didn’t. What would you have done if she had?” Sansa should probably feel a measure of guilt but couldn't find it in herself to do so. Jon needed more teasing in his life. She could picture his reaction though. There would be a Jon shaped hole in the wall; six months later he’d be found deep in the woods, having taken up the life of a reclusive lumberjack.

“Oh, that’s easy. I’d ask you to help me in exchange for grading papers or maybe lunch for the rest of the year. Would you do it?”

They were already eating together almost every day. Sometimes she made them lunch and others he brought in pizza. “If you’d asked.”

Jon cleared his throat and his expression made her think that if his t-shirt had more of a collar, he’d be tugging at it too. “I didn’t get to answer your mother’s question earlier,” he said quietly.

Sansa winced, remembering it. She’d felt put on the spot then and it must have been worse for him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. When I was younger, my mother would sometimes order me to go play with little Timmy or David even when I was perfectly happy alone. It felt like the same thing again.”

They’d received an email earlier in the week from Lyanna Snow asking if Jon could take her the following night. It’d been phrased as a question but felt like an order. Less than a minute after reading it, her door slammed open and Jon barged in to announce it wasn’t his idea. “We can go separately if you want, even if it does feel like our moms have been ordering us about lately.”

“I’m mucking this up again, aren’t I?” Jon combed his hair back before resting a couple fingers against his temple. “Seems to be a habit. The answer I would have given your mother is that I’m looking forward to it and, for once, I’m glad my mother did the asking for me. I wanted you to know that.”

“I’m glad too.” Sansa told herself her heart was thumping away at a perfectly normal pace. It wasn’t reacting to his words at all. She couldn’t feel the heat on her cheeks either. It was only the warm afternoon sun.

******

Rickon thought this was the best day of school ever. If they could play with water balloons and super soakers more often then school wouldn’t be nearly so awful. He’d be a star pupil and an honor roll student. Unfortunately, it would go back to being boring next week.

“Okay, let’s do this. Follow my lead and this will work perfectly,” he said confidently. As the leader of their group, it usually fell on him to make sure their plans worked.

“It’s my plan,” said Lyanna.

“And my idea,” said Shireen.

Rickon ignored them both. “Let’s go. Water balloons on my signal.”

“That’s stupid. This isn’t a war movie,” pointed out Lyanna.

He gracefully ignored that too. The entire field was a dirty and muddy mess, filled with other kids spraying super soakers at each other. The water slides were super busy too. But, they’d hidden away some balloons for this part. “On my mark. Aim. Fire.”

His sister made a funny sound and ran away which was fine with him. Rickon didn’t want to get Sansa wet.

“What the---” SPLAT!

“Rickon!” That was his sister’s voice but he ignored it.

A couple more balloons found their target and Mr. Snow staggered backward from the force of their hits. Best day ever. “More!,” he yelled. A yellow and then a blue one landed. One hit his face and another his chest.

They launched a couple more and Mr. Snow’s hands went up as he slowly fell to the ground. Rickon was a total genius.

“Jon, are you all right?”

“Man down. Man down,” he gasped out between peals of laughter. “I thought the balloons were gone.”

They stood over him where he still lay on the muddy grass field. “We stole a bunch earlier this morning so we could attack you.” They’d thought it hilarious earlier but now he worried. “Are we in trouble?”

“No, none of you are in trouble. I’m impressed. The ambush was unexpected.” He was still laughing.

“Can I help you up?” asked Sansa. “Are you hurt?”

She held out her hand and Mr. Snow accepted. “Believe me, that’s nothing compared to paintball. It’s funny. Well done, each of you.”

His sister started picking blades of grass out of Mr. Snow’s hair and another one off his shirt. Mr. Snow was just standing there, letting her fuss over him for some reason. Rickon hated when Sansa did that to him. “You don’t have to stand there and let her do that to you,” he offered up helpfully. “You can make her stop.”

Mr. Snow made a strange coughing sound and his sister finally stopped. Shireen kicked his shin.

“I should go check on things,” Sansa said. Her voice sounded funny.

“Yeah, I’ll stay here and uh….watch over things.” Mr. Snow stared after Sansa as she walked away.

“Mr. Snow?” No answer. “Mr. Snow?” he repeated again, louder this time.

“Have the three of you had fun today?” Mr. Snow finally tore away from staring after his sister.

“Sansa looked really pretty today, didn’t she?” asked Shireen.

“Yes, she did,” said Mr. Snow stiffly and took a step away.

“Mr. Snow, my sister is planning to take all of us out next Saturday and she wants to know if you’ll come along. It’ll be a ton of fun and we have a full day planned. She said it’s really important we all have fun together,” Rickon said in a rush.

“She did?”

“Yeah, she did. So, you’ll come, right? Great! See you at my parent's house next Saturday at ten. Bye!”

The three of them ran away before Mr. Snow could refuse. Now, they had to work on Sansa.

”I’m a genius,” he said.

“It was my idea,” said Shireen.

“I’m a genius for letting you have an idea.”

******

Jon stroked the petal of one of the blue roses he held in his hand. He reminded himself once more that this wasn’t a date, at least not a real one. He was picking her up as part of a school function, that was it. He knocked on her apartment door and waited.

“Hi. Come on in.” Sansa stood back to let him inside.

He wished it was a real date. She was stunning in a dark blue sleeveless cocktail dress. Jon never knew he had a thing for sleeveless gowns until Sansa. It hugged her and tortured him. “You look very pretty.” Jon owed her a better compliment. “Actually, you’re beautiful. I mean, you always are but now too. Beautiful, I mean.” Foot, meet mouth. That was his worst fumble in a couple weeks by far.

If Sansa noticed, he couldn’t tell. Instead, she smiled one of her beautiful smiles. “You look handsome.”

“My mom made me wear this tie.”

“My mom insisted on coming dress shopping with me.”

He relaxed. “These are for you. I picked them earlier today from my mother’s garden. I figured she owed me. And you too.”

“These are northern roses. I love them.”

The excitement in her voice made the effort worth it. Truthfully, he’d torn off a few but it was Elia that helped him put it together. She’d thrown in a couple of small white flowers and tied a ribbon around the bunch. “I’m glad.”

Sansa put them in water and then they were in his car and heading to the school's cafeteria. The two of them had already been together most of the day, transforming it into what she called a northern winter wonderland. Jon mostly did as he was told until it was time to go home for a quick shower and to change.

This event was the capstone of the week, an evening for school staff and parents to mingle in uncomfortable evening clothes and make small talk. Jon had found it a completely awful experience in past years but he hoped for something different this time around. He’d never had Sansa with him before.

“I’m going to check on things,” she said almost as soon as they entered the room. She grasped his hand absently before letting go and scurrying away.

Jon stood against the wall and reminded himself it wasn’t a date. She had no obligation to stay by his side the entire evening, however much he wished for it.

“Surprise,” a familiar voice whispered behind him.

“Rhae! You’re supposed to be in Dorne. How did you get here?” Jon picked up his sister and pulled her close. She barely stood taller than their mum, with the same thick dark hair although she tended to wear it longer.

“Airplanes. Fabulous inventions.” She led him towards a table. “Let’s catch up.”

Jon steeled himself; may as well get the most difficult question over with. “How’s dad?”

“He’s good. He’s doing good,’ she said carefully. Rhae got along better with their father, better than he ever did, but that didn’t mean very much. “I haven’t seen him in a couple weeks actually.”

“How’s the family?”

“They miss you, Jon, Uncle Doran especially. You know how much he cares about you.”  

Rhae shared his mother’s gift, she always knew how to make him feel guilty. She’d moved south to Dorne a few years ago, claiming she wanted to live in the southern climate. Secretly, Jon suspected she’d hoped to build a relationship with their father. He did not share that hope. “I was thinking of visiting over spring break this year.”

“I’ll buy a ticket so you can’t back out.”

They talked for a good while about the Martell family and her job. He missed her. Rhae had played the part of an overprotective sister when they’d been growing up. Jon had several memories of her explaining him to their parents as if she’d been the decider of what he did or did not want to do. Usually, Jon was content to let her do so.

“Is that her?”

Jon didn’t realize his staring was so obvious. Sansa stood on the other side of the room next to a man he could not recall seeing before. The guy was good looking too, he grudgingly acknowledged. “Is that who?” he asked, pretending ignorance. Jon hadn’t spoken of his crush yet to anyone, not even Elia.

“Oh, come on.” She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Is that Sansa? She’s beautiful.”

“She is,” he said carefully.

“I won’t force you to talk about it until you’re ready. But, when you are, give me a call.”

Jon nodded his head, choosing to stay silent. Rhae had known beforehand. Elia, he’d wager his house it was Elia. The strange man next to Sansa kissed her forehead before casually draping an arm around her shoulders. She’d never mentioned a boyfriend but he wasn’t surprised. The two of them were coming over now, which made it even worse. Jon braced himself and stood up.

“Jon, this is my brother. Robb, meet Jon Snow. This is the one I told you about.”

“Robb, nice to meet you.” He almost wanted to cry with relief. They were close in age and Jon realized he was looking at an adult version of Rickon Stark. “Good things, I hope.” Please don’t let it be his awful first dozen impressions or his early tendency to say the word good at least once a conversation.

Robb Stark chuckled. “You impressed my mother, not an easy thing to do.”

He had? It wasn’t? “Good.” Twenty-three. “Come meet my sister.” Jon introduced Rhae to the Starks but stayed silent through the small talk. He didn’t care about the weather in Dorne or anywhere else for that matter.

“Will you three excuse me? I need to do another round.” Sansa left without waiting for an answer.

Jon stayed behind until he recognized the conversation. He wasn’t great at flirting but he still knew it when he saw it. “I’m going to check and see if anything needs to be done,” he told the two of them and wandered off. Truthfully, he didn’t have anywhere to be. This was Sansa’s event, not his. The room was transformed too, with a weirwood tree in the middle and accents all about that reminded one of snow and icicles.

He poured himself a cup of punch and decided to do one of his most practiced skills, hide in the back of the room and try to blend in.

“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk earlier.” Robb took a sip from his cup and winced. “Oh, that’s sweet. Must be one of my sister’s recipes.”

Jon snorted. “I’ve learned she has quite a sweet tooth.”

“Putting it mildly. I don’t know much of anyone here either, outside of my family that is.”

Jon picked up Robb’s tone. There was a point he was trying to make. “Rickon is a sweet kid.”

“In his way. A little wild too.” He shook his head fondly before continuing on, “Sansa asked me to come tonight.”

“For moral support? She’s been worried about this night for weeks.”

“Nah, she’s got that part handled. My sister was worried no one would want to dance with her tonight so she asked me to be here just in case. Can you believe that? Maybe I’m biased but how could she ever think that?”

Jon didn’t know how to answer. “No idea.”

“Me either. I think I’m going to ask your sister and then mine. Unless someone beats me to it that is.” Robb lightly slapped his shoulder. “It’s nice meeting you, Jon. I suspect we will see a lot more of each other in the future.”

“It was nice meeting you as well.”

He wondered if it was that simple. Jon took another sip of his punch and frowned. It really was very sweet. Sansa was deep in conversation with his mother. They were probably discussing him if he knew his mother at all. He moved through the crowd, making his way towards them.

“Jon, there you are. I was just telling Sansa how good you are at football.”

He was mediocre at best and hadn’t played in a couple years. “Sorry to interrupt”, he said to the both of them before placing his attention directly on Sansa. “Shall we dance?”

Her eyes went wide and Jon prepared himself for rejection. “I would love too.” He’d never been so happy to be wrong.

“Sorry, mom---” She’d left; he hadn’t even noticed. Jon offered his hand and Sansa took it.

“I asked my brother to come in case no one asked.”

Jon owed Robb Stark a beer or maybe his firstborn. “Is that so? I can’t believe you would think so.”  A new song started and Sansa stepped away from him. “Not an Eric Clapton fan?” He hoped it was only that.

“ _Wonderful Tonight_ is beautiful. Once, when I was little, I spied on my parents while they danced to this song. I remember thinking...it doesn’t matter. I love this song.”

She stepped into his space and Jon felt her arms come around his neck. He could barely hear the music over the nervous thunder of his heart. “I love this song too,” he said but all Jon could think was that her body was close to his and she was in his arms. He could smell her shampoo; he smiled upon recognizing the lemon.

Jon was torn. A part of him didn’t want to say anything at all, the better to devote his senses to the moment. Another part wanted to say something, maybe even admit his feelings. But then Sansa rested her head on his shoulder and he ended up telling himself not to touch her hair instead.

“I grew up listening to these songs.”

“Eric Clapton?” he asked.

“Him and others but I meant old love songs. My father always had music playing and I picked up my favorites.”

“Sounds like he has good taste.” He’d noticed her singing or humming quietly when she thought herself alone before but he’d never paid much attention to the tune. He needed to start doing so. “Are you tired after this past week?”

“Aren’t you?” Sansa giggled so he could feel the heat of her breath against his skin. Jon suppressed a shiver. “I think I’m going to take a nice hot bath and then go to bed.”

Jon deliberately kept his eyes wide open to better fight off the image that started to creep in his head. “I’ll probably end up collapsing in the hallway.” Technically, they weren't done either. There was clean up the next day.

They were silent for the rest of the song but he didn’t care. Sansa Stark was in his arms and his hands were resting on the small of her back. Her hips swayed against him as they danced to the music. “One more?” he asked when the song ended.

“I would love it.” She didn’t move at all.

Sansa made excuses after that, needing to return to her responsibilities but he didn’t care. Jon made his way back to his sister and spent much of the rest of the evening in her company. If she noticed him on the dance floor, Rhae didn’t say a word. Finally, the night was done and they were able to leave.

“How are you feeling?”

Sansa’s lips twisted with joy, making him think of a pixie. “Self-satisfied,” she said smugly.

“You should be.”

“We should be,” she corrected.

“Cleanup still needs to be done.”

“Ugh. The not so fun part.”

“Well, I have an idea. Shall we get brunch and then do cleanup? Or get it over with and then go eat a late lunch somewhere?”

“Jon Snow, asking the tough questions,” she teased. “Oh, brunch. Let’s do that. Are you going to come get me?” Her tone was still teasing but he thought the questions were serious. He hoped it was.

“I was thinking so unless you’d prefer I didn’t.”

“Pick me up at eleven. No, noon. No, eleven.”

“How about eleven?”

“Eleven.”

They were back at her place only a few minutes later. “We make a good team,” he said, deliberately alluding to their conversation the day before.

“A very good team.” She kissed his cheek. It was chaste, a quick peck, really but his body thrummed from the sensation of her lips on his skin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jon.”

“Good night, Sansa.”

He waited until her door closed and he was returning to his car to place his hand where she kissed him. “She kissed me,” he confided to the crescent moon above him. “Did you see that?”

It was Monday morning, after all the weekend’s events, before Jon realized he never asked Sansa what Rickon meant about all of them having plans together that coming Saturday.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton? That was the song at my wedding. And yes, I kinda hinted at an upcoming minor pairing. Both Robb and Rhae are going to be appearing again in this fic.


	6. Chapter 6

Jon Snow was a handsome man. Sansa had known that in an objective sort of way from their very first meeting but it was different now. She’d glimpsed more of his body without his usual work clothes on and she’d danced with him the night before too. Sansa wondered if he realized his thumbs rubbed against her back while she’d been in his arms. Slowly, she was coming to know more of him, plumbing the depths of Jon Snow in a way, and what she’d learned only made him more handsome. Sansa had insisted on attaching the word co-worker to her relationship with him but it was not strictly true, he was a friend and rapidly on his way to being her closest.

“Sansa?” She blinked, pulling back from her musings. “Do I have something on my face?” Jon picked up a napkin to use. 

Your lips. “No, sorry. I’m still not awake yet. It’s been a long week and I feel worn out.” She was tired, that was true at least. Sansa slept later than usual that morning and then rushed to dress, choosing leggings and an old shirt since the day would be spent cleaning. Then, she’d looked in a mirror and decided she looked frumpy so changed into a skirt before putting the original outfit back on. This wasn’t a date. 

Jon leaned across the table. “I can’t tell at all. You always look beautiful to me.” He squeezed his eyes shut with embarrassment before explaining, “I’m not checking you out all the time but I’ve noticed. I hope you aren’t offended.”

“If I am offended, would you call me ugly instead?” Jon’s expression turned stricken until he took note of her tone and relaxed. “You’re handsome. I’m not checking you out all the time but I’ve noticed.” Were they flirting? Sansa was flirting with Jon Snow. She pinched herself under the table but nothing happened.

“My mother is always telling me that.” Was he flirting back? 

The skin over his collarbone turned ruddy and the flush started creeping upward. Sansa would not have the chance to find out, it would only add to his discomfort. Still, he’d admitted finding her attractive and that meant something. “She’s wise. I am tired though, collapsed right in bed. Didn’t you?”

“I can never do that.”

“Why not?”

Jon glanced down at his plate of food before meeting her eyes. “I need to relax after being around crowds.”

The gym was close to bursting with people the night before. She’d twittered from one group to the other but he had not. “You must have hated last night.”

“It was one of the most enjoyable evenings I’ve had in awhile.”

It was her turn to blush. Sansa wondered if she’d played a role in his enjoyment. She needed a new topic before lingering on that question to long. “I liked your sister. I think Robb did too, for that matter.” 

“Everyone likes Rhae.”

Sansa almost blurted out that some people liked Jon Snow more but took a sip of her tea instead. She would have expected Jon to pick a greasy spoon sort of place for brunch. Instead, they’d ended up in a tea room, exactly the type of romantic restaurant she adored. She wanted to believe he’d chosen it with her in his thoughts rather than it being mere chance. 

“Sansa?” She pulled herself back from the start of another fantasy. “You really are tired aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? You haven’t done anything.” 

“I’m being rude.”

Jon smirked and sat back in his chair. “If that’s rude then I’m a complete ass.”

Sansa gaped, recalling his awkwardness when they’d first met. She wouldn’t deny thinking him rude then but he wasn’t, merely uncomfortable with someone new. “You’re not an ass,” she protested.

His lip curled up into the little smile she recognized. He was teasing her and he was enjoying himself. “And you’re not rude. You should let your kids watch a video tomorrow and relax.”

“What?”

“A short movie. You can have them write something up on the themes for homework if you want. That way, we can pretend it was educational.”

“What?” Sansa was certain she’d misunderstood. Was he still teasing her? She could imagine what would happen if it slipped out she wasn’t following her lesson plans. Sansa couldn’t think on it, the year had gone as close to perfect as she could make it so far. A reputation for laziness would ruin everything. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Sansa opened her mouth to explain but all that came out was silence. Jon’s brows wrinkled before he frowned. “We could do it together. I was going to pass out worksheets but this way, maybe my students will like me a little.”

“Your students like you,” she said halfheartedly although Rickon told her differently.

“No, they don’t but thank you for telling me that. How about it? Combined classes tomorrow and we slack off.”

Sansa chewed her lip, considering. She’d be helping Jon and that mattered to her, deeply. She’d not forgotten her earlier conversation with Jeyne Poole either. Sansa wanted to hear the rest of that story soon. “Okay, but only because I’m helping you.” Secretly, she was a little relieved too.

Jon exaggerated wiping his brow. “Thank you.”

“We should go, shouldn’t we?” Sansa didn’t particularly want to leave. They were in a tea room, with lace on the table and gauzy curtains. An antique sewing machine stood against one of the nearby walls. 

“Last night, you said the song made you remember something. What was it you remembered?” he asked, ignoring her question or perhaps he hadn’t heard it. Maybe Jon wanted to stay with her as well. 

She pursed her lips self-consciously. It was a lovely memory to her. “It was years ago, before Rickon was even born. My family was gathered in our kitchen after dinner one night and that song started to play. All the sudden my dad pulled my mother into his arms and they started dancing. Robb and Arya made noises and told them to stop so I played along and did the same but, truthfully, it was the most romantic thing little girl me could think of. Now, whenever I hear it, that scene appears right in front of me again, that’s all.” Sansa deliberately shrugged her shoulders to make it seem as if her memory truly wasn’t anything special. 

“That’s a nice memory,” Jon said quietly. He offered to refill her tea cup which Sansa accepted. “We should probably go but let’s stay a little longer.”

He wasn’t any more eager to leave than she was. “I’m glad you suggested this place. It’s lovely.” 

“I guessed correctly then,” he started before noticing her puzzled expression and continuing, “I wanted to take you somewhere special that didn’t offer pizza.”

Unbidden, Sansa hummed a few bars of a song before stopping herself. “Sorry.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed but not from annoyance. “Don’t be. I’ve noticed you singing before.”

“Bad habit.”

“No, it isn’t. The opposite. “ Jon smiled one of his half-smiles. They were becoming rather frequent. 

She’d kissed him the night before, caught up in the evening as she’d been. Jon had not mentioned it but she didn’t expect he would. Sansa bit back the words to the Disney song even as they still played in her head. There may be something there that wasn’t there before. 

*****

“Our plan is working,” said Lyanna. 

“Of course it is.” Sunday night, Sansa came over for a big family dinner. He’d heard her asking their mother if relationships between colleagues were acceptable before they saw him. Rickon was chased out of the kitchen so he didn’t know what else they talked about but it didn’t matter. The next day, Sansa and Mr. Snow shared classes and they’d had no homework. He knew what it meant. “They’re totally in love now.”

“No, they aren’t,” corrected Shireen. “They’re in like, not in love.”

“What’s the difference?” he asked.

“Like is when they like each other. Love is when they want to get married.”

His mom said they danced on Saturday night which is what made Mr. Snow decide not to give them homework. “We need to do this then.” Besides, if Sansa wanted to go out with Mr. Snow, then he had a responsibility to help, even if it meant lying his pants off. Rickon was pretty sure that was what Robb meant when he said they both wanted their sister to be happy. “Remember, if you panic and don’t know what to do, bawl your eyes out. Sansa will do anything to make you happy if you start crying on her.” 

His sister was eating lunch with Mr. Snow in her room again. They always did that now. Rickon thought they were rude for not inviting him more often but he’d graciously not complained very much. 

“Hey. Mom wants to make sure you’ll be over at ten on Saturday to pick us all up,” he said, interrupting their conversation. It was probably something boring anyhow. 

Sansa stared at him, confused. “Pick you up for what?”

“Don’t you remember? You promised to take us out to the adventure park this Saturday. Mr. Snow already agreed, didn’t you Mr. Snow?” 

“I...suppose I did.” He turned to face Sansa. “I’m sorry. You didn’t mention it so I figured it was a mistake.”

Rickon checked and, sure enough, Lyanna and Shireen looked really sad. This was working out perfectly. He’d make his sister feel guilty and then they’d get a day of fun. “But, you said on Friday that you would take us,” he said, trying to sound extra disappointed. 

Sansa looked at all the faces staring back at her. “I’m sorry, Rickon. Last week was so stressful, I must have forgotten.” Her and Mr. Snow started looking at each other funny. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Rickon rolled his eyes. It was time to lie some more, they were leaving him with no choice. “Dad said if you don’t take me then I have to go shopping for new flooring with them. Please don’t make me go. It’ll be boring.”

“That does sound boring, I wouldn’t make you go,” said Sansa.

“Flooring? What kind?” asked Mr. Snow. He was actually interested.

Rickon panicked. “My dad said you can’t come. You’re not allowed,” he lied. Technically, he said Shireen and Lyanna couldn’t come but it was mostly the same thing. 

“Rickon!”

Mr. Snow laughed. “I’m not upset.”

“I’m sorry,” Sansa told him but Rickon couldn’t figure out why. She hadn’t done anything except yell at him. “You don’t have to.”

“I’m good but thank you for checking on me.” 

They were giving each other funny looks again. “So, you’ll take us?”

“Yes, we’ll take you,” Sansa said. 

They thanked her and Mr. Snow. As they left the room, he heard Mr. Snow say, “I’ll enjoy myself, I promise.” Then, his sister giggled like a girl. Rickon rolled his eyes again.

Alone in the hallway, he collapsed against the wall. “It worked.”

“Did you see that?” asked Shireen.

“See what?”

“The way they looked at each other. They’ll be in love soon. I can’t wait for the wedding.”

Rickon thought about it. Weddings were supposed to be a big deal. “How many days off school do you think we’ll get for their wedding?”

*****

Jon wasn’t certain how their trip to the local adventure park happened but he was glad for it. After the kids left Sansa’s classroom, she’d apologized over blindsiding him. He’d dismissed the need, remembering Rickon’s original offer. Jon had refused that and he wasn’t stupid enough to make the same mistake again. She’d smiled warmly and said, “Good because I’ll need my partner with me.” He’d jokingly replied that he would never leave her alone. Jon didn’t pick up on the potential double meaning until that evening when he was alone. He wondered if Sansa noticed.

“Where are we going first?” she asked, pulling into a parking spot. 

He didn’t care. Jon was content to let the kids decide the day’s agenda so he stayed quiet while they argued over go-karts, mini golf, and the arcade for several minutes before Rickon was voted down. 

It was Lyanna, the self-appointed group leader, who announced, “First the karts and then bowling. Rickon will be allowed to pick what comes next.” 

He noticed Sansa deliberately turn away to hide her efforts at stifling a laugh. Jon wanted to join but said, “Off we go then.” They quickly purchased the all-day passes, conducted a Sansa ordered bathroom break, and made their way to the race track. 

“You’re going to lose,” Rickon said in the loud and dramatic way only a twelve-year-old could muster. 

“Apparently I’m going to lose.” Jon didn’t particularly mind. He was enjoying himself, more than he would have expected. 

Sansa lightly touched his arm and whispered, “I should probably apologize now for whatever happens today.”

“Please don’t.” 

Jon lost, badly. Three times in a row. Sansa’s narrowed eyes told him she was suspicious. “My foot kept slipping.”

“Did it?”

Jon put his arms out, silently telling her it wasn’t his fault. He was willing to lose at go-karts. Bowling was something very different. Of course, he would have preferred more of a challenge with his competitors. Jon winced to hear the ball bouncing against the wood floors five times in a row. 

“Rickon, try this.” Jon adjusted the boy’s grip and showed him how to properly roll the ball. “Arm all the way back.” The ball still wobbled its way down the lane but at least few pins were knocked over this time.

“My turn,” said Lyanna. 

He ended up helping her and then Shireen as well, conscious of Sansa’s eyes on him the entire time. 

“Mr. Snow, where did you learn bowling?” asked Rickon.

That was a difficult question to answer and one that made him slightly uncomfortable. “I taught myself.” Jon wanted to make something up but decided to be honest. “There were times as a kid where I grew frustrated over events I couldn’t control. My mother used to encourage me to learn something new as a way to deal with it. So, I taught myself bowling along with a few other sports.” 

“Mr. Snow, what else do you know how to play?”

“Quite a few. My current favorites are basketball and running. I used to play football a lot too.” Jon felt the weight of four different sets of eyes on him. He could do with a bit less staring. The familiar itching was starting up. Talking about math in front of a class was one thing, explaining childhood issues to an audience that called you Mr. Snow was something very different. “How about the three of you call me Jon outside of school?”

“What about at school?” asked Shireen, bug-eyed. Was this a bigger deal than he expected?

“At school, we’ll keep it at ‘Mr. Snow’ for now. No one calls me that on the weekends though.”

Three sets of twelve-year-old faces lit up. He’d pleased them. The rest of the game continued on. Jon won, by a large margin, but he took some comfort in the knowledge that he’d tried to make it a fairer fight. 

“Was it appropriate that I asked them to call me by my first name?” he asked Sansa as they walked towards the giant arcade room.

“I thought it was sweet of you.” She leaned in closer to him, taking care they were not overheard. “They like you very much.”

“I don’t know why.”

“Really? You’re an onion, Jon Snow.” Their conversation ended then as Shireen called for her attention. 

They entered the arcade room and Jon’s senses were immediately overwhelmed. He typically enjoyed video games but this was very different. Sansa and Shireen were still in conversation so he steered the other two kids from one game to another, doing his best to tune out the competing sounds and flashing lights. Jon noticed a basketball game and persuaded them to give it a try with a promise of tickets and prizes afterward. 

“Let’s get lunch,” Sansa said a short while later. 

Guilt tickled him, Jon thought he’d done a more than decent job of hiding his discomfort. “We don’t have to leave for my sake.”

She laughed. “But we do for mine.”

“Fair enough.” Jon stared at the menu with disdain. “What are you going to have?”

Sansa twisted her lips before answering, “Honestly, I’d rather starve. I’ve got an idea if you’re up for it.”

“I’m already in agreement and I don’t know what it is.”

“Let’s get food for them and a light snack for us to share. After we take them home, you and I go to an actual grown-up restaurant for food. I think we both might like someplace quiet with an actual meal to enjoy.” Sansa spoke somewhat haltingly which surprised him, she’d never been shy before. It was worry over him. She worried how he was coping.

He wouldn’t be home alone until later that night, later than he’d intended. Jon honestly couldn’t bring himself to care. “I would love that.” They split a soft pretzel while the three kids ate corn dogs, chips, and milkshakes followed by popsicles for dessert. “I’m impressed,” he said out loud before following with a muttered, “and slightly horrified.” A feminine giggle next to him told Jon he’d not been as quiet as he’d thought. 

They went back to the go-karts after lunch where Jon proceeded to mysteriously lose several times in a row before they asked to return to the bowling area. They played another game with him offering up more lessons and felt a certain pride in seeing their skills improve by the end. After that, Sansa announced the day over which was met by a chorus of groans. Jon wisely refrained from picking a side. 

Later, after dropping the kids at the Stark house, they ended up at a small Thai restaurant. It was quiet, with dim lighting and intimate booths that separated them from other patrons. Jon thought it perfect. Sansa sat across from him, absently stroking the rim of her teacup. “I enjoyed myself today.”

“Me too. You were very sweet with the kids. I worried they would be a bit much.”

“They weren’t. I could have gone without the arcade room though.” Sansa murmured her agreement. He took note of the relaxed slope of her shoulders and slight tilt of her lips. Jon could not detect even the slightest trace of anxiety or tension and it was a skill he was typically rather good at. He hoped she wanted to be there with him as much as he wanted to be with her. “I want to tell you something.”

“What do you want to tell me?” Sansa scooted closer and rested her head on her hand, perhaps wanting to signal how closely she was listening.

Jon thought on how best to explain. He wasn’t sure how she felt about him exactly but, once or twice, he’d suspected her feelings were growing. Or maybe he merely saw what he wanted to see. “I’m not great with people and I don’t particularly want to be but you already know that. There’s only a handful of people I truly miss when I’m not with them and you’re one of them. That’s all.” He nodded once and picked up his menu. Jon decided he’d communicated enough to offer a hint of his own feelings but not so much to leave him exposed. 

“Can I tell you something?” she asked a few beats later. They were both speaking quietly, the way couples tended to do in public spaces, as much to ensure they were not overheard as it was to pin their focus on the other person. 

“Yes.”

“You’ve become my closest friend since I moved home again.” 

Elia once alluded to Sansa’s loneliness and she’d been right. “You’re mine. We’re pathetic, aren’t we?”

Sansa’s lips pressed shut and her teeth appeared in an attempt to suppress a smile. It half worked. “Yes, we are.” She glanced away to stare into her lap before meeting his eyes once more. “If this is a night for confessions, can I ask you something?”

“If I know the answer, I’ll tell you.”

“Why is there distance between you and the other teachers?”

Jon grimaced, mildly disgusted with himself. “Noticed that, did you?” 

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t have to but I want to.” Jon rubbed his beard. This story wouldn’t make him look good. “The distance is my fault. I used to get along decently with everyone, not close, but casual. I’d ask people how their weekends were sometimes because it was polite, that sort of thing. Somehow, rumors got out that I’d be taking over the school. I still don’t know how it happened, I never told anyone.”

“Do you want it?”

“The job? I never thought past teaching which I love. If my mums need me to step in, then I’ll do it happily. I love the school too. Like I said, the rumors got out. I wasn’t sure how to handle it so I accidentally put distance between myself and others. People noticed and slowly stepped back from me and then I did the same.” Jon spread his hand over the table to illustrate his point.

“And now?”

He thought it obvious. “My mother has pretty much told me she’s leaving at the end of the school year. I decided if people will be working for me, I shouldn’t be friends with them.”

“You are with me.”

“You’re different.”

“Why?”

Jon didn’t know how to respond. “Because you are,” he said although it came out closer to a question. She looked into her lap again. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No. No, you didn’t.”

The server came then to take their dinner orders and Jon couldn’t decide between gratitude and resentment. He’d been tempted to confess something he wasn’t yet ready to confess. Instead, the spell broke and another companionable silence grew between them. 

Sansa took a sip of her jasmine tea. Her nails were a maroon shade this time around. Jon noticed she tended towards bolder colors on the weekend and pale reds and pinks on school days. “Shireen has started writing her own stories. She’s shared some of them with me.”

“Do I need to read them?”

Sansa covered her mouth to suppress a laugh. “No, you don’t. I have an idea and I’d like your opinion.”

“Shoot.”

“I want to sponsor a creative writing club if there’s enough interest. I wanted to be a writer too, once upon a time.” She spoke the last part hesitantly, almost shy. 

“You still could be, if you wanted.” He’d be her biggest fan. “Form the club, it will get approved. You’ll even get a budget.”

“How do you know? That was a stupid question, wasn’t it?”

“Obvious, not stupid.” He leaned across the table and whispered, “Only if you don’t tell anyone about our horrible misuse of power.”

Sansa giggled and the resulting smile proved the adage true, her face was lit up. If they were a couple, it would be one of those moments where they met across the table to kiss. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good.” Their meals came so they switched to easy chatter while eating. Jon should be tired, he’d been out with people the entire day, but he wasn’t. He didn’t want their evening to end.

“Should I take you home or do you want to do anything else?”

Briefly, Jon thought she was hinting before he replayed her question in his head. “There’s a coffee shop nearby. We could get some hot drinks and go for a short walk.”

“That would be perfect.”

Thirty minutes later found the two of them walking together, her with more tea and him with hot chocolate. “We should do more together.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Sansa glanced towards him and, even in the dusk, he saw the same pleasure Jon knew would be reflected in his own expression.

“Do you like basketball?”

“That game where you play with balls?”

“I prefer the word dribble over play but yes. My friends and I are playing this Thursday. Will you come watch?” 

“Yes and I’ll make you dinner another night.”

“I’d like to take you hiking soon.”

“Hiking?”

“A light walk in the woods,” he amended, noting the slightly nervous tone in her voice. 

“Are we making plans?” she asked playfully but he heard the underlying question too. Sansa wasn’t entirely sure if their conversation was genuine or merely polite.

He stopped to face her. “Sansa, I….” Jon trailed off. It was too soon and he wasn’t quite ready yet. “I really did enjoy myself today. I want us to spend more time together.”

“I want that too.”

Sansa kissed his cheek once but Jon didn’t think it would be appropriate to do the same, not without her permission first. “Shall we keep going?” He couldn’t kiss her but he could offer his arm. 

She took it and briefly leaned her head on his shoulder. “What are we going to do after this?”

He hummed a laugh. “Good question, I’m glad you asked.”

Soon, Jon promised himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elia will be back in the next chapter. She needs to answer one of Sansa's questions.


End file.
